#not counting the hour on desk zoning out and thinking about it beforehand

[gen-is-gone]

I've been deeply stuck on that post talking about certain groups of young people on (I think it was) twitter insisting that it's inappropriate to masturbate to the thought of someone without their permission. This is a little wild and all over the place, but bear with me.

People generally followed the logical conclusion to that horrible but of discourse down one path, which was that obviously, it's way creepier ask friends, acquaintances, and strangers for permission to jerk it to them, than it is to just do it and never speak of it, but I think that maybe misses the point, which is: yeah, they know it's inappropriate ask someone you're not in a pre-established sexual relationship with if it's okay to think of them while masturbating. The point is that they think that masturbating under most circumstances is wrong and inappropriate anyways. Or rather, that it's fine to masturbate, probably, but *thinking* about the wrong things or people (read: *most* things and people) is wrong. And it's all, again and always, the christofascism.

See, this is the thing with a lot, a huge amount of radfem sex-negative ideology and why it's so frustratingly easy for them to recruit under that theme: it's what a lot of young americans believe anyway. Sex-negativity and general hatred of non-normative (or honestly even pretty damn normative) sex practices slots comfortably into place within the mindset of people raised by white american christianity because it requires absolutely no adjustment of one's bedrock moral values. If you grow up in an american christofascist cult, as a lot of americans do, you are generally taught to believe that sex is almost always wrong and inappropriate, that it's uniquely damaging, and that it will, if not treated with caution, leave lasting moral taint. The whole current anti/purity/moral panic bullshit as it's manifesting in generally non-straight, generally leftist, most quite young online spaces, centers around the same basic conceit only with different set dressing, ie, sex is almost always wrong and inappropriate, that it's uniquely damaging, and that it will, if not treated with caution, leave lasting traumatic scars. Protestantism in a gay hat, yes we've all seen it, etc. A lot of folks only realize how damaging the beliefs they were raised with are when they realize they are marginalized by those beliefs, especially non-straight, non-cis folks. So when it comes to something like masturbation, sure, you don't belive in white american christianity, it's not a sin to rub one out, but. But.

Live action, filmed porn is inherently exploitative and no sex work could ever be truly ethical, also porn rots your brain and leads to addiction and an inability to distinguish real sex from porn/fiction from reality. Erotic art, cartoons, and hentai are bad becauce they are exaggerated and anatomically improbable and again lead to an inability to distinguish fiction/porn from reality. Wanking to the thought of celebrities is wrong because you don't know them or have access to them and thus they cannot consent to your sexual fantasies about them. Wanking to the thought of friends and acquaintances is wrong because even though you do have access to them, by asking for their consent to feature in your sexual fantasies, you have already nonconsensually involved them in said fantasies. (And like, yeah, that one i think we can all agree with, that asking people for permission to masturbate to the thought of them *is* nonconsensually involving them in your sexual fantasies, but note the Catch-22 there). The end result is that the range of permissable sexual fantasies becomes so narrow as to be functionally nonexistent. In other words, masturbation is wrong and inappropriate, uniquely damaging, and will, if not treated with caution, leave lasting moral taint *and/or* traumatic scars not just on you, but on anyone you fantasize about. And at the root of this, left unexamined because white american christianity best prefers to exist as the unquestionable default, is the idea that your thoughts themselves can be morally wrong,and that thinking the wrong things, regardless of whether you act on those thoughts, will make you a bad person. These young people agonizing over perfectly normal desires and wildly expanding the boundaries of any one person's right to consent, still believe in thought crime, that they'll be surveilled, judged, and punished for thinking bad thoughts/things, except instead god doing the surveilling, it's a panopticon of their own built up terror and anxieties.

And like the thing is, I imagine for the vast majority of these folks, all of this is happening well-below conscious thought, in the realm of, again, unexamined bedrock belief. They don't have to examine it, because it fits so easily already.

[dearkusuo]

Ch. 1 ☆ Last Christmas

Synopsis: You were intent on avoiding your ex-boyfriend all of winter break, however, your mom and her best friend had other plans lined up for you.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x reader

Tags: college au, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

m.list ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 1 ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 2

Thick clouds painted the darkening sky a dull grey while streetlights began to glow over the horizon. The cold air bit the skin on your cheeks, tinting them a shade of red the moment you stepped out of the car you parked by the curb. Your fingers fumbled to button up the coat you wore as a chill ran down your frame. 

You opened up the trunk to take out your belongings stored inside, promptly closing it shut soon after. The siren of your vehicle went off once as you locked it up, and you trotted to your porch, suitcase trailing behind while you dragged it along. 

 Flashy decorations were displayed all over your front lawn, and colourful lights were strung on the tiles of your roof. You resignedly shook your head at the extravagant presentation. 

Your parents tended to be overly zealous when it came to Christmas decorations. You’ve known that for as long as you can remember, but it didn’t make you any less hesitant to see the setup they arranged for the interior. 

Your hand drifted over the doorbell, leaving it extended in the air for a long moment. You hoped they remembered that you no longer have a house key and got home from work early. The sound of the bell rang aloud as you pressed the buzzer.

You instinctively flinched back when the door flung open seconds later. Your mother let out a squeal, wrapping her arms around you in excitement while you returned the tight embrace, a small grin gracing your lips. She hastily pulled you inside when a gust of wind passed by, causing you both to shiver. The change of temperature warmed your frigid body.

 The living room was lavishly accentuated with festive ornaments, just as you thought. Silver tinsel outlined the furniture while a heavily adorned Christmas tree noticeably stood at a corner of the room. Red stockings and green holly wreaths hung on the wall and the smell of gingerbread filled your nostrils.

Your brows lifted in surprise when you spotted your next-door neighbour sitting comfortably on your couch.

“This is unexpected,” you uttered.

Your mother’s best friend, Mrs. Saiki, stood up and ambled her way to you. She took your palms in her grip and greeted you with a hello.

"How long has it been?" She wondered.

"About a year," you answered plainly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

She brought both her hands over her lips to cover up a gasp. "It’s been that long? You really should come home more often."

A deep hum left your throat as you courteously nodded along in agreement. You turned your attention to your mother with a puzzled look on your face when she lightly tapped your shoulder 

“Before you arrived just now, Kurumi and I were thinking that it would be a great idea for us to spend the holidays together, so we decided to have a small party on Christmas Eve,” she mentioned cheerfully.

You gave another nod and replied casually, “Alright.” The two women often spent time in each other’s presence, so it wasn't unusual for them to plan on spending Christmas together. It was probably just a get-together they were having with the rest of their friends. “You two have fun then.”

“Actually, it will just be both of our families attending,” your mother corrected.

Your tone dropped an octave lower, “Oh?”. The implication that you had to be present heavily dripped from her words. Were they really expecting you to tag along with them?

"We thought it would be a great idea since you don’t come home a lot, and all of us hardly see each other anymore."

“Kusuo just returned from college this morning, and even Kusuke is visiting for a while,” Mrs. Saiki blurted out excitedly.

"It'll be like old times," your mother added.

Like old times. When your families always spent time together. When you were together. 

It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your mother and her friend happily beamed at each other, oblivious of your deteriorating mood. The turn of events left you unwilling to participate in the conversation any longer.

"I gotta go unpack,” you announced. 

“Of course, you must’ve had a long day,” Mrs. Saiki exclaimed.

“It was nice seeing you again,” you conceded, keeping up a polite smile. She gave your hand a final pat before you retreated.

"Your dad is upstairs. You should go see him first," your mother suggested.

You mumbled an acknowledgement as you marched up the second floor with your luggage in tow. As was requested, you gave a quick greeting to your father before you entered your room.

The familiar space was left in a spotless and tidied condition that led you to believe that your parents regularly dusted and maintained it in your absence. Your bedsheet was neatly tucked in without a wrinkle to be seen, and your shelves were conveniently organized. Frantically, you went through your desk drawers to check if they had snooped through your personal belongings. 

You faltered once you opened the last compartment. The sight of a wrapped present left untouched caused you to momentarily pause in shock. Your handwriting was scribbled out in black sharpie on the gift wrap, addressing it to Saiki Kusuo. 

You never did get the chance to give it to him. Closing the drawer, you made a mental note to throw it out when you got the chance. 

 You looked out the window in musing. He must’ve known that you were coming back today. The dark, dull sky was tainted white by the snowflakes that began to descend to the ground.

You padded down the stairs late in the morning. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Your father sat on the couch, watching the broadcast that was showing on the TV.

"Hey," he said with a wave of his hand. He briefly looked at you before returning his attention to the news channel. You gave a simple greeting in return.

"I made plans to meet with Chiyo and Kokomi today. We're eating out, so I'll be back in a few hours," you explained, already halfway to the exit.

"Alright,” your father responded idly, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. “Your mom and I made plans with the neighbours as well. We might not be home by the time you get back."

"Got it," you called from outside the door frame. You made your way to your car, hopping on the driver’s seat and revving the engine to life with a twist of the ignition.

The drive took a little longer than it usually would have, as the weather from the previous night left a thin layer of ice covering the road. Fortuitously, you had snow tires installed on your automobile beforehand, ensuring that you made it to your destination safely.

Your friends were already occupying a booth by the time you arrived at the diner. They bombarded you with conversation the moment you sat down, anxious to know what you’ve been doing for the past few months. You apprehensively informed them of what your mother and her best friend had planned for Christmas Eve.

"That's not gonna end well," Kokomi remarked.

"Tell me about it. What were they thinking?" Chiyo griped. "You’d think they’d know how awkward it would be for you and Saiki since you two are, you know, exes."

"I don't think they care," you grumbled in a distressed tone.

You crossed your arms over your chest, brooding over the unwanted encounter that was sure to happen.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Kokomi asked.

You shrugged wearily before responding, "I’ll probably stay for a bit, then dip whenever I can." 

There was a high chance that you’d somehow get roped back into the party, but you currently didn’t have any other solutions to your dilemma. Anything was fine as long as you could spend as little time with him as possible.

A ruminating silence fell between the three of you.

“When did you guys break up again?” Chiyo inquired.

“Last year, on winter break. Around this time of the season.” 

You directed your focus on the plate of food you ordered as memories of the previous December flooded your mind. Your nose crinkled in concentration.

“It must’ve been hard for you guys to be in a long-distance relationship,” Chiyo pronounced with a long sigh.

The distance was never an issue for the two of you since he could teleport to your location anytime.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

 Towards the end of the relationship, it felt like you were the only one who cared enough to keep things afloat. You gave it your all while he usually lacked the initiative to make an effort out of the limited time your college workload would allow.

But it’s not like everything was his fault. You had to admit that you often pushed past his comfort zone when he was content with just spending the day peacefully at home with you.

It was your dynamic that ultimately convinced you to break up with him. The two of you simply weren’t compatible together. 

You quietly chewed on your food as you listened to the carefree chatter of Kokomi and Chiyo.

You parked the car by the curb of your house. Snowflakes fluttered to the ground once again as you stepped out of the driver’s seat. You hurriedly walked to your front door, eager to get out of the freezing weather. 

There was no response when you rang the buzzer.

You let out a frustrated groan as you remembered your dad saying no one would be home when you returned. They didn’t even bother to leave a spare key for you.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts to seek temporary shelter from a friend. Chiyo would only pry into your love life again, and you didn’t like running into Kokomi's brother. 

At this point, your best option was to stay in a random store for the next couple of hours. Your teeth began to chatter as you walked back to the front gate, ready to start your car once again.

"Oh? Look who we have here."

Your head intuitively whipped around to the source of the voice. A man with pale blonde hair strode towards you. The headgear on his head strikingly stood out.

"Kusuke? What are you doing here?" you queried.

He cocked his head to one side at your bewildered gaze.

"Did nobody tell you I was visiting for a few weeks?” 

Your eyes widened in realization as you recalled the previous night when Mrs. Saiki passingly declared that her eldest son would be returning for the holidays.

“Are you locked out?" he probed, observing your shivering frame.

You nodded timidly, unconsciously pulling your coat tighter over your torso.

"Why don't you come stop by for a bit while you wait for your parents?"

You grimaced. Knowing Kusuo, he was probably at home, minding his own business, and an interruption from both you and his brother would only put him in a foul mood. Likewise, you’d rather avoid him if you could help it.

"No, that's fine. I'll just wait at a friend's house," you insisted, shaking your head in refusal. 

"But I'm guessing none of your friends are available."

You gritted your teeth. It was always difficult to break free from Kusuke’s snare. Judging by the smirk that crept on his face, he knew that his assumption was correct. Reluctantly, you let him usher you into the Saiki residence.

Kusuke offered you a cup of tea while you patiently sat on the couch. The heat it emanated warmed your numb fingers back to life. Your eyes roamed the living room that was decorated so extravagantly, it rivalled your own. At the back of your mind, you wondered if Kusuo had teleported someplace else while you remained in his house.

 Kusuke asked you simple questions about your college experience, people you met, and your part-time job. He was being polite enough that you almost felt bad for anticipating he'd ruin the moment by being his usual overbearing self.

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Kusuke inquired.

There it is. 

You didn't see how that was any of his business. A short pause lingered between you two as you kept your mouth shut. You quirked an eyebrow up in bewilderment, waiting to see where he was getting at.

"Why don't you consider going out with me?" He grinned mischievously.

"That's a lame joke, even for you," you retorted.

"How can you be so sure that I'm joking?"

You scowled at him. Kusuke didn't like people. That was enough for you to believe that he was fooling around just to get a reaction out of you. 

'What do you think you're doing?' a familiar voice rang in your mind, provoking your muscles to tense up and your jaw to lock.

He appeared out of thin air. The sight of green lenses and antennae poking out of pink hair caused you to internally panic.

"Kusuo, I was just having a chat with our lovely neighbour here." Kusuke gestured to you.

'Seems like harassment to me,' Kusuo scoffed.

"Don't be like that. It’s not like I had any ulterior motives." Kusuke chuckled. He turned to you again and imparted with a smile, "Don't take anything I've said to heart. I was just teasing you."

You figured as much, but you still couldn't help the annoyed huff you let out. 

"Did you come down here because you were feeling left out? Do you wanna join in?" Kusuke asked his little brother in a disdaining tone.

Kusuo glared at the blonde man as he quipped, 'No. I’m here to tell you to be quiet. I can hear you from upstairs.' He shifted his attention to you. The blank expression on his face caused you to fidget under his gaze.

"I got locked out of my house, so Kusuke invited me to stay here while I wait for my parents to come home," you rambled, glancing down at your lap. Although he probably already knew that.

'I'll unlock the door for you.' 

Kusuo's footsteps lightly echoed off the wooden floor. You looked up after a few seconds to see him waiting expectantly for you by the exit.

Placing down the unfinished cup of tea on the coffee table, you scrambled up from the couch. You waved goodbye to Kusuke before following his younger brother outside, softly trudging on the snow beside him.

“You look well,” you commented.

Kusuo only gave you a curt nod, a strained silence following soon after.

What did you expect? He wouldn’t bother wasting time on small talk with his ex when he was already so eager to kick you out of his house.

Both of you halted when you reached your porch. The sound of a click went off as Kusuo's hand hovered over the lock.

“Thank you,” you politely murmured, letting out a sigh in gratitude. You brazenly stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kusuo's lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were downcast, as though he were contemplating deeply. You thought nothing of it, returning your gaze forward.

Twisting the knob, you pushed the door open and stepped inside your home. You turned your head over your shoulder to say a coy goodbye, but no words escaped your lips.

He leaned into you, stopping a few inches from your face. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look he gave you. Your heart skipped a beat as your body ignored your brain’s protests telling you to move.

‘Are you doing alright?’ he mused.

You could only nod in reply.

‘I see.’ 

His brows furrowed the slightest bit as he pulled back. If you hadn’t known him for years, you might not have noticed the flickering emotion on his face. You turned your body around to get a better look at him. 

Was he worried for you? It was a possibility. The two of you left on a bad note after all, and Kusuo never liked hurting someone’s feelings. Even if he didn’t care for that person anymore.

‘That’s not the case.’

"Huh?"

He vanished before your sight, leaving you standing by the door frame. The cold air breezed into your home as you wondered what he meant.

[stxrrywildflower]

cooking lesson

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - you cook for the everyone during the teams annual dinner

warnings - none

word count - ?

team dinners almost always occurred at rossi’s.

they didn’t happen often due to the teams busy schedule but when they did, it was a pretty fun and special time. rossi usually took the liberty of cooking as his pasta was unmatched.

for this time, rossi had offered you the chance to host the cooking lesson. at first, you were incredibly confused. usual rossi, aka the senior profiler and pretty much dad of the team, liked teaching.

“well i need to see my legacy in the works. besides, i think for once i would like to sit back and enjoy a glass of premium italian wine,” rossi spoke, motioning with his hands to further get his point across.

“alright i’ll do it.”

a look of surprise washed over your dads face. “wait really? i was sure you would say no.” you laughed, “i just need the ingredients.”

“give me a list and i’ll get it,” rossi answered.

you quickly grabbed a piece of paper off of your desk as well as a pen. after scribbling down the ingredients; flour, eggs, sausage, bell peppers, onion, garlic, crushed tomatoes, and white wine. rossi nodded, already knowing what dish you were planning to make.

“i’m going to head to the store. dinner is in six hours so plan accordingly with everything,” rossi explained. you smiled at your dad before leaning back on your bed to relax before the night.

forty five minutes before the team was set to arrive, you headed downstairs. you wanted to start on the actual sauce beforehand since everyone would be making their own homemade pasta. it was a slightly scary thought, having adults who mostly eat takeout due to their time traveling cooking from scratch.

soft music played through the speakers in the kitchen. you hummed along, gathering the ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. since tonight’s lesson was reversed, you were going to pre-make the sauce while the pasta would be homemade.

rossi entered the kitchen to the sounds of sizzling as you sautéed the vegetables. “sauce coming along okay?” your dad asked. you nodded, “everything should be ready soon.”

“anything i can do you help?” rossi offered.

“if you want to set out the bowls of flour and then the eggs on the counter that would be great. i already set the table so that’s the last thing that needs to be done,” you replied. your dad worked around you in the kitchen, placing out the ingredients at everyone’s designated station.

when the first team member arrived, it was hotch, you were just cleaned up some dishes. “hi uncle aaron,” you greeted, still elbows deep in soapy water. “you can take a seat wherever. dads down getting a bottle of wine but he should be up soon.”

just like you had said, rossi was back in the kitchen only a moment later, greeting the unit chief like you did. the two agents engaged in a random conversation, you zoning out until the doorbell rang again.

rossi excused himself to answer the door. derek and penelope were the next to arrive. after that it was spencer, then emily, and finally j.j. glasses of wine were handed out to everyone besides you, much to the enjoyment of the three girls who accepted the glasses eagerly.

“alright everyone,” you started, changing your apron as you did so. “making homemade pasta can get a little messy so just be wary of that.”

“first step is the flour. i set bowls out for all of you with the right amount. you want to pour the flour into a pile and organize it into almost a mountain shape,” you instructed, doing it yourself as an example for everyone. “next hollow out the middle but leave a layer of flour at the bottom.”

“crack the eggs in the center. i’ll collect the shells from everyone,” you ordered, heading around the side of the counter to take the eggshells. after tossing them in the trash, you handed everyone a fork.

“emily,” you warned upon seeing her already attempt to poke derek beside her.

“now whisk the eggs, combining flour periodically. if you do it right, it should turn into dough. once both of them are combined, use your hands to kneed it,” this step should be fun to watch.

rossi was an absolute pro at this, that was obvious. everyone else, on the other hand, was struggling quite a bit. you had to correct the adults several times on how to act and properly cook.

“penny no, do not try and eat the dough.”

“derek stir slower. last time i checked the eggs did nothing to you.”

you were using a certain type of flour that didn’t make the dough need to sit in the fridge to chill. instead, you could go right in and cut the long strips after flattening the dough. intending knives was a whole experience on its own.

“jesus christ spencer! be careful with the knife. you’ve almost cut yourself four times. j.j. keep an eye on him please?”

“you’re doing perfect uncle aaron.”

the kitchen was an absolute mess. flour was spread across the counter in random places other then the pile you had sprinkled out for everyone to use. just as everyone was finishing up flattening and cutting their own dough, you figured you needed to start the water.

“dad?” you called, successfully gaining the attention of your father, “keep an eye on your other set of kids okay?”

rossi chuckled at your words while you rummaged through the cabinets to find a pot to boil the water in. you heard rossi lecturing the team on their mistakes as you did so.

the rest of the night went much more smoothly. you had cooked the pasta made and added the sauce before dishing it into bowls. emily was a couple of wine glasses in, giggling at every single thing someone said.

when everyone was finished eating and you were done cleaning up, you figured you might as well head upstairs to give them some ‘adult time’ to talk about work or personal things that you didn’t not want to hear. before you went, your dad stopped you.

“thank you for the cooking lesson figlia,” rossi thanked, a chorus of similar replies from the rest of the team.

“anytime,” you replied, a smile on your face.

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @tinylumpiaa @rumplebutterbitch @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @the-quarantine-diaries @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @spencerreidxoxo

[dancethroughthethunder]

The Best Kind of Eternity

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k (I cannot shut up ever about anything)

Prompt: I’ll take whatever you give me

Summary:  You’ve had a terrible week so your best friends, Peter, Ned and MJ, have planned a night of yummy comfort food, face masks, and cheap wine to unwind. You’re hopelessly in love with your best friend, and unbeknownst to you, he feels the exact same way. Ned, and MJ are having fun watching the sweet disaster that is you and your Peterman. After a few glasses of wine and a long week, you’re ready to admit it. Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, and college!au all in one.

Author’s Note: It’s here!! My first fic in literally years and my first fic on this account! This is a college!au and everyone in this fic is of legal drinking age. There is mention of alcohol and feeling tipsy but nobody is explicitly drunk. I’m just really soft okay, please love my soft Peter.

Y/N = your name, Y/N/N = your nickname and Y/F/S = your favorite show

It had been a long week. No, scratch that, it had been the longest week that any human being in all of history had ever been subjected to. It was one of those weeks where you had every big test and assignment at once, where everything you did at your internship was wrong, where the food in the dining hall made you sick, and where you were both home sick and also so glad you were far from home as your loving mother nagged you about how much sleep you were (not) getting and the amount of vegetables your diet was likely missing.  

Needless to say, you were beyond ready for a relaxing weekend. All week you managed to keep yourself going by remembering that once Friday afternoon rolled around, life would get so much easier. You had a surprisingly free weekend for once, and an easy week coming up and you were ready for the much needed sleep, and time with your friends that your weekend would bring. You just needed to get through the awful eternity that was this week.

Sometime between the 5th and 20th stressed out text from you at work earlier in the week, your best friends decided that what you needed was a night to relax. Even when the four of you were just hanging out, you were usually the one to make the final decisions about where to hang, what to eat, and what to do, but not this time. With MJ bringing the wine, Ned bringing the snacks and Peter bringing your favorite stressed out comfort food for dinner, your friends were ready to listen to you complain just one last time about your boss, your professors, and the idiot in your one class you’d dubbed “Loud Dumb Boy” and then ply you with drinks, face masks, and yummy food. 

You’d never been more grateful for your friends than you were Friday morning when you received a text in your group message (named, to MJ’s chagrin (“What it’s just so lame”, she groaned when you’d suggested it), the Core Four): 

MJ: Alright Y/N/N, we’re having a junk food & wine night tonight. What: the greatest night of your life. When: 7, so you have time to take a nap after class. Where: Your room, Who: You, Me, and the Idiot Twins. Why: Because people suck and you deserve it. 

Ned: How: don’t worry Y/N/N! We’ve got all of the planning covered

MJ: I’m getting the wine, and the boys are getting the food. All you need to do is be in your room, awake and wearing pants at 7 

MJ: Or not wearing pants

MJ: it’s a free country 

MJ: somewhat

Peter: I can’t wait!!!

You let out a cross between a moan and a sigh at the thought of having a fun relaxing night that you didn’t even need to plan. And MJ made sure that you’d have time for a quick nap beforehand? Honestly, how do people make it through college without friends like these three? 

Checking to make sure that you weren’t missing anything up on the board, you pulled your phone back out to type your reply

You: Sounds heavenly.

You: Also, MJ if you want to see my ass all you have to do is ask (wink wink)

MJ: Y/N, did you really just say wink instead of using the emoji

Ned: I think it’s funny

MJ: Stop encouraging her 

You: At least Ned loves me 

MJ: since you can’t see me I just want you to know I’m flipping you off 

You: Fair enough 

Thankfully, not only did texting your friends help pass the time but your professor was feeling generous and let you out a few minutes early. Just one more test to go and you’d be back in your dorm ready for a nap. 

Five hours later and you had successfully taken your exam (thus concluding the week from hell), gone back to your dorm to clean up a little bit, taken care of a few emails, called home to talk to family and finally snuggled into your bed for your much needed and deserved nap. You rolled around in your bed wondering whether it was worth it to shut your eyes for the few extra minutes until your alarm went off, signaling you to get out of bed, put on pants and get ready for your friends to come over. The second your head hit your pillow again, you figured that if you didn’t get out of bed now, you’d still be there when MJ undoubtedly showed up earlier than she had said. 

You jumped down from your bed, and began digging through your drawers to find your comfiest pair of leggings (listen, you’re a firm believer that naps are meant to be a no pants zone- and really, who could judge you for that) and to grab your deodorant to freshen up before your friends get there. As soon as your shirt is back on, there’s a knock on your door accompanied by what you’re pretty sure is the sound of MJ attempting to get your attention and make sure you’re awake.

You cross the room to open the door and find that your assumption was correct; MJ stands there balancing a heavy bag that you’re pretty sure is full of wine in one hand, phone in the other ready to call you if you were still sleeping.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting forever” 

“You knocked like ten seconds ago, Michelle” You rolled your eyes, you loved your best friend but sometimes she could be impatient in a way that just really made you want to scream.

“Ten seconds, forever, who’s to say the difference. After all, time is a-”

“Construct” You finished for her.

“Exactly, you get it” MJ smiled as she bumped you with her hip.

Given that you didn’t have a roommate and had a double room to yourself, your room was the designated hangout spot. Without needing to say anything, MJ went ahead to put the wine in your fridge and started to make herself at home.

 “Y/N, I say this with all of the love in my heart…. Have you looked in a mirror since you woke up?” To her credit, MJ was managing not to burst out laughing as you took a few horrified steps over to your mirror. 

Uh oh, you had fallen asleep with your hair down and now looked like a cross between the Heat Miser and someone from Who-ville and somehow you thought your Christmas-inspired gremlinry was not the look you wanted to be sporting when Pete- uh your friends, yeah all of your friends, were over...

“Shit, MJ, the boys will be here in any second and I look like a gremlin” You ran back over to your dresser to grab some dry shampoo, a spray bottle of water, and a brush to try and contain the mess that was your hair.

 “Ah yes, because Ned cares so much about the state of your hair. Oh, what was that? It’s not Ned you’re worried about? Could it be an arachnid adjacent friend of ours?”

Without even turning around to look at her, you raised one hand to (lovingly) flip off your best friend. In any other friendship, you assumed it would be weird to be in love with your one best friend who had previously dated your other best friend, but MJ had declared an exception in girl code for you. It was no secret that MJ and Peter dated in high school, it was also no secret that it just didn’t work. There were no hard feelings, no big revelations, no massive fights or betrayals of trust, they just worked better as friends than they did as partners. You respected them both for making that decision before it got to a point where it might have been hostile, and while you knew there were no residual feelings you couldn’t help but be a little jealous of MJ sometime. You knew there was a reason it didn’t work out but at least she had the chance to try. Either way, you were pretty sure that there would be no chance for you if you looked like this when Peter knocked on your door. 

“You’re infuriating sometimes, I hope you know that” You finished your sentence with a groan as MJ smirked, reminding you that she definitely knew that.

“Get over here and I’ll braid your hair” MJ got onto one of your desk chairs and patted the spot between her legs, indicating that she wanted you to give her the hairbrush, sit down and let her work her magic since she knew you couldn’t put your hair in a good braid if your life depended on it.

Right as MJ tamed the wildest part of your hair, there was a knock at the door, without either of you getting up, both you and MJ yelled out that it was unlocked and in walked the other half of the Core Four.

“Hey, Y/N!” Ned smiled as he came into the room carrying a bag full of snacks, both sweet and savory that definitely had far more food than you could have ever eaten. (“What, I wanted her to have all of her favorite options” Ned would say later when MJ and Peter teased him about buying the entire store).

“Honey, we’re hoooome” Peter Parker, your best friend and quite possibly the love of your young life, was right behind Ned, winking and carrying boxes of what you hoped were pizza and garlic knots.

“Took you two long enough, I want food.” You jumped up from your spot on the floor to grab plates and napkins so you could start eating.

“She’s cranky but she’s got the right idea.” MJ laughed.

“Hey, I’m not cranky, I'm hungry.” You tried to whine and pout at MJ but couldn’t hold it through your laughter.

A little while later you had all eaten as much pizza and garlic knots as you possibly could and had drunk a couple glasses of wine each already. It was time for part two of the night to commence: face mask time. You walked over to your dresser where you kept your various skin care products to grab a few of the face masks you and MJ had bought last time you went to Target.

“Hey, Pete? Which do you want?” You held up the various face masks in question, to show him his options.

“I’ll take whatever you give me”. You were glad that you were already flushed from the couple of drinks because otherwise there would have been a tell tale blush in your cheeks that would have given you away.

Cmon Y/N get it together, he’s just talking about face masks. It was just one innocent sentence. You’d said far heavier and romantically laced things to him before, but for some reason as soon as he said this, your heart started hammering so loudly in your chest you were sure your neighbors would think there was construction happening nearby. Was it a sign of trust? Did he just not care that much about the variety of face masks you were offering? Or was it something more? Did he really mean whatever? Of course not, you’re reading into it. It had to be the alcohol kicking in, you couldn’t possibly be that head over heels and flustered. Right? Right.

“Y/N/N? You good over there?” You blinked and realized you had completely zoned out staring at Peter, while still awkwardly holding all of the face masks in your hands. Cool, way to be subtle Y/N.

“Wha? Oh! OH! Ha sorry, I must have completely zoned out there.” Must have completely zoned out there?! Could you have picked a lamer thing to say? At least come up with a good excuse next time, damn.

“Oh Y/N, can I have that one?” Ned excitedly popped his head into your line of vision to ask about the lavender de-stress face mask that you know he says makes him feel like the “king of treat yo self”. What you would do without Ned and his perfectly timed distractions, you never wanted to know.

“Oh yes, of course. As if I’d give you anything else”. You winked at Ned, and without missing a beat he brought a hand to his chest and pretended to swoon. 

“I’ll take that one thank you very much.” As MJ grabbed one of the face masks remaining in your hands, you made a decision for Peter and tossed one to him, keeping one for yourself as you went to find a headband to keep those annoying baby hairs out of your way when you had the mask on.

“Hey, Y/N/N?” You turned around to see Peter looking at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes on the planet.

“....yes P?”

“So you know how sometimes I miss spots with face masks?”

“Yes…”

“And you know how you’re so good at them”

“Who the hell isn’t good at face masks, you just smear stuff on your face it doesn’t take a degree to figure out” MJ snarkily whispered to Ned who was unsuccessfully biting back a laugh.

“I mean in the sense that I know how to put them on my face and avoid my eyebrows and everything, sure I’m a regular aficionado. Why what’s up?”

Peter looked at you hopefully, looked at the face mask you had just tossed him, and then right back at you. A big grin broke out on his face as he held it right back out to you

“Are you asking me to put your face mask on you?”

“Yes please you’re just so good at it and it always gets stuck to me and you always do it anyways and pleeeease” Once again Peter was giving you the eyes that you and MJ had dubbed the “Spidey Pout” with you both joking that it’s the best weapon against bad guys he could ever have.

Okay, so this one was on you. The first time you ever did face masks with the guys, Ned wasn’t too sure how he felt about the texture so you offered to help him put it on, and then helped Peter as well. Ever since, Peter has always made a point to have you help him put on his face mask. (Neither of you will ever admit it, but you both know he knows how to do it and avoid his eyebrows but you both relish in the pure affection and domesticity that comes with putting a face mask on someone else. Who knew smearing gooey mud on someone’s face was a whole love language in and of itself).

“Okay, fine, come here Parker.” You grabbed an extra hair tie and handed it to Peter who excitedly pulled back as much hair as he could into the tiniest, cutest, ponytail ever. You looked over at Ned, who was putting on his own face mask and smiled when you saw that he too had a tiny little ponytail to keep his hair out of the way.

You gestured for Peter to sit in front of you in your other desk chair as you sat at your desk and started opening the mask to put on him. You’d given Peter a peel-off mask, which you knew he liked because he didn’t have to go wash it off making it easier and because of the satisfying feeling that came with peeling it off. When it comes to putting a face mask on someone else, you relish in having an excuse to be so close and to have physical contact, after all you’re incredibly physically affectionate. When it’s Peter, it’s even better. He sometimes closes his eyes, giving you a chance to just admire him. You can watch the stress melt away as you gently spread the mask over his face, and you get to take in the beauty that is Peter Parker. When he doesn’t close his eyes, he just watches you. It should probably make you nervous, feeling watched so closely and so intensely but there’s something loving in his eyes that makes you feel seen. Sometimes you take your eyes off whatever part of his face you’re putting the mask on and the two of you just hold eye contact- not long, just a few seconds, but given all of the feelings you’re both holding back, it feels like an eternity. It’s the good kind of eternity, it’s falling asleep in the shade at the beach listening to the water and losing track of time; it’s rocking a baby to sleep in a dark room knowing that nothing else matters; it’s falling in love in a second and knowing that even if you don’t say it, somehow it’ll be okay. After all, despite the awkward moments and the way that you’re sure it’s unrequited, it’s been an absolute pleasure to fall in love with Peter Parker. 

You move your chair in between Peter’s legs so you have better access to his face, and try not to think about the way that MJ and Ned are undoubtedly making faces to each other about all of this. You misjudge the angle of your chair, just a bit as you go to sit, undoubtedly caused by the moscato coursing through you and you don’t even have time to catch yourself because someone’s already done it for you. You look down to see one of Peter’s hands on your hip, the hip hanging off the chair and, not for the first time in your life, you’re thankful for his spidey-reflexes.

“Woah there, you okay?” You sit into your seat as you nod in response to Peter and you try not to focus too much on how the hand that was on your hip as casually migrated to your thigh. You couldn’t know it but right now Peter is silently thanking whatever in the universe (your wine) that made you slip for giving him an excuse to touch you. It’s not sexual, he just likes physical affection as much as you do and he finds it’s even better when it’s you. Ned once told him that his love language is probably touch. Peter disagrees, he thinks his love language is whatever you’re doing. It’s like that tik tok trend with the sound of the Penguins from Madagascar or whatever that movie is, where in order to translate one penguin motions and only one other penguin understands it to translate. His love is already there, but no matter what it is he wants or thinks, you seem to be the only one who can translate and bring it to life. For example, he never knew how easy it is to memorize someone’s laugh. It helps that yours is just so you. He swears he could pick you out of a crowd, blindfolded, just by your laugh. But, you have no way of knowing any of this as your heart skips a beat when he absentmindedly rubs his thumb on your thigh.

You lean forward, and start to apply the mask to Peter’s face, giggling when he shudders at the initial coldness. Today is a closed eye day, it seems, and you don’t mind because you think that with his hand on your thigh still, you might not be able to handle intense eye contact without imploding.

“Y/N can I use a washcloth?” Ned’s face mask has already been on, and dried by the time you remember that there are in fact, two other people in your room.

“Yeah of course, dude.” You turn your head to indicate where you keep them, but see MJ already grabbing one for herself and tossing one to Ned.

“You know for someone worried about privacy and surveillance, you’re incredibly comfortable going through my things.” You flash MJ a smirk over your shoulder before going back to Peter’s face mask.

“Alright love, you’re done.” You stand up to go clean the residual mask goo off your hands as Peter stands up to check out your work in your mirror.

“Thanks, dear.” You feel a swell of pride every time Peter uses some pet name for you. You’re the type of person that calls everyone some kind of nickname or pet name, and throughout your friendship Peter has started to do it more and more but only ever with you. Well, maybe sarcastically with Ned too.

A little while later and you’ve finished with face masks, vented one last time about your week and have been playing some drinking games when Ned lets out a massive yawn.

“Ah I’m sorry guys, I’m just so tired all of a sudden.” Ned smiles sheepishly and glances toward your clock.

“Look at the time, wow. Thank you for coming over and helping me to unwind. It was a hell of a week and this was exactly what I needed. I know it’s late, you guys can totally stay for a bit or head out and go to sleep, promise I won’t be offended if you want to leave.” You smile sweetly at Ned, knowing that since you had such a bad week, his instinct is to stay until you kick him out, but also knowing that he’s so tired and you do honestly feel so much better.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna head out then. Do you wanna grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

“Make it closer to brunch, we all know I’m sleeping in.” You laugh as Ned stands up to leave. 

“Alright, I think I’m peacing out as well. Things to do, people to see.” MJ gets up and starts to follow Ned to the door.

“MJ, you know we see past your whole ‘cooler than you mystery girl’ thing, we’ve been friends for years.” Peter rolls his eyes, laughing. 

“Yeah but where’s the fun in that. You staying or coming with, Parker?” 

“I’m gonna stay for a bit, I think Y/N and I are going to watch an episode of Y/F/S” 

“Okay, good night!” 

“Night losers.” MJ and Ned walk out of your room, letting the door shut naturally behind them. 

“Okay, if you pour us another glass of wine and get the lights, I’ll queue up the show.” You pass Peter your wine glass and grab your laptop and a blanket, and sit back down on the pillows you put on the floor.

“M’lady.” Peter tips an imaginary fedora as he hands you both glasses, so he can sit down and get comfortable without worrying about spilling his wine. 

Peter settles in next to you and takes his wine while you start the show. After a few minutes, you start slowly leaning until your head finds Peter’s shoulder. He laughs, knowing how extra cuddly you get while drinking and is surprised it took you this long. He hears you mutter something that sounds like the word comfy, and is genuinely surprised when you pick up his arm and toss it over your shoulder. While it’s nothing new for the two of you to sit together normally, and cuddle after a long day or when drinking, this is definitely something new. Not that he’s complaining. 

Peter smiles down at you as he shifts a little in his seat, hand on your upper arm as he adjusts the arm behind you. Whether it’s the alcohol, his little comment from earlier, or the way things felt different when you put on his face mask, you aren’t sure what’s propelling you to be more forward than usual. Maybe you’re just sick of pretending you wouldn’t be his in a second, and the other things are just contributing to lessening your fears of rejection. 

You look up at Peter, and let out a soft “hi”.

“Hey there, you comfy?” You nod, suddenly unsure of how to communicate your feelings without sounding like an idiot, while simultaneously feeling incredibly warm, inside and out. Luckily for you, Peter decides for once in his life to pick up on someone’s signals and decides he’s going to go for it. 

“I, uh, meant it earlier, ya know?” 

You raise an eyebrow, confused, as you sit up straight so his arm is still around you (his hand is still tracing absentminded circles but it’s fallen to your waist now) but you’re able to see him better.

“When.. when I said I’ll take whatever you give me. I meant it. I’ll take it. Happily.”

There’s a moment, a brief moment, where you’re scared. You’re scared that somehow despite what he’s saying, this is all one big misunderstanding or that you’re reading too much into it. But, the moment passes and you look into your best friend’s eyes and see love and a distinct lack of judgment and you realize that there’s no way you’re not thinking the same thing. 

“Yeah? What if it’s my love, that I want to give.” You almost feel silly jumping right to the L word, but you’ve known for a while now that you love him, you capital L Love Peter Parker and suddenly you find yourself wondering how you’ve never brought yourself to tell him before. 

Peter smiles at you, and your dorky awkward best friend finds himself at a loss for words. You’re here, and you love him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s never heard anything better. So, he just smiles and nods and hopes that you can see it in his eyes, that you can see everything he’s thinking but can’t say. He wishes he knew how to tell you it all. He wants to say “I love you, you’re my best girl, my favorite person. I love the way you put your hair up when you’re thinking. I love the way you always listen when someone is talking, and make sure that nobody has to trail off because nobody in a group. I love the way you sing in the car and hum when you’re cleaning and in a good mood. I want to hear your sleepy content sighs when you put your head on my shoulder after a couple of drinks for the rest of my life. Name it and I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

But, he doesn’t know how to say any of that. So instead he says “Are you offering it?”

“I don’t think I have to offer it, P, you already have it. It’s yours if you want it. I just.. Just need to hear you say it.” 

Peter sees you’re getting shy and knows he has to reassure you, he knows how important it is to you that he says it outright.

“I love you. I want it, I want you. Let me love you right. Please, Y/N/N, let me do this. You’re my best friend, be my girlfriend?” 

Peter starts to lean into you and you nod, giving him your silent consent not only to the kiss but to everything: his love, his time, giving it a go. 

It was the week from hell, but right now you’re sitting here kissing your best friend- your boyfriend, and he knows you love him and he loves you too. And as you kiss him, with his hands lightly on your waist (he needs to feel you, to know you’re real, to put as much love into your body as he can) and with yours cupping his face, you think that if you got to do this forever, it would really be the absolute best kind of eternity.

[cutiepisenpai]

Gifted Part 2

Spencer Reid x F!Reader Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Awkwardness.

Three weeks later the team is on the jet coming back from a case. “Checkmate in three” says Spencer. Glancing up from the book she is reading Y/N eyes the board before moving her piece. “Checkmate” “Unbelievable” Spencer mutters. Things had gotten better over the past few weeks. Spencer had found a good friend in Y/N but he still had trouble talking to her sometimes. He however didn’t like that she seems to enjoy flaunting how much smarter she is than him at times. “Wanna go again? Or are you finally tired of losing to me?” Y/N says, taunting him. He  wants nothing more than to find a way to remove that adorable smirk from her face. Not that he was keeping count but she was in the lead for current wins and he did not like that. “I think I will pass for now.” “Really are you sure I have been having so much fun kicking your ass.” She laughs out. Oh she was surely trying to get under his skin and he shouldn’t let it get to him. “And to think when I first started everyone talked about how great you were at chess guess it was because they are no real competition.” She mocks him. “Just because you’ve won more times doesn’t mean you’re inherently better, chess is a game of strategy you simply had a better strategy for that match.” “Oh wow did I strike a nerve? Is your ego hurt?” She giggles as Morgan high fives her. She was adorable and infuriating, not wanting to bother bantering back he decided to just ignore her and open a book of his own. Back at the office Y/N has of course finished early again but instead of leaving she decides to stick around and bother Spencer. She was sitting on the edge of his desk she had already asked four times if he wanted help finishing his paperwork. “Why don’t you go bother Morgan or Prentiss? I'm sure either of them would like your help.” He says not looking up from his paperwork. “Why would I want to do that? I'm not actually looking for more work. I just enjoy being a minor annoyance to you. Anyway what are you doing this weekend?” Did he hear that right, she never talked about her life outside of work she was extremely private never before having shared weekend plans beforehand. To his knowledge she didn’t even text or call anyone of the team on their days off. And why would she want to know what he was doing with his weekend anyway. “What just happened did you short circuit?” He hears looking up to meet her eyes. Shit he thinks he thought he had gotten better control over not zoning out when she would speak to him. But now this pause has gone on for entirely too long and it’s starting to become awkward. Clearing his throat, “No plans really, there is a guest lecture at Georgetown I might go to but nothing other than that. What about you? Do you have any plans?” “Not really was thinking of maybe going to see the new exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. Do you wanna come with?” If his brain hadn’t turned to mush before it definitely would have now. Did she actually ask him that? She couldn’t actually want to spend hours wandering through a museum with him. “I’ll take that as a no” He hears as she is walking out the door. Shit, he didn’t intend to ignore the offer he just got lost in his thoughts but before he could decide she was gone.                                                                                                    

That night he is at home laying on the couch trying to read a book, he has read the same sentence four times, unable to focus. How is it possible that he messed up something before it was even something. He considered calling Y/N to apologize and say that he would like to join her at the museum but he just couldn’t find the courage. So he tried to distract himself but his thoughts kept coming back to her. Before he knew what he was doing his phone was in his hand ringing. “Hello?” “Y/N” “Yes?” He really should have thought this through. “Sorry…” She doesn’t respond. “Y/N” “Yea” a long pause occurs with neither of them not saying anything. “Spencer, what’s going on.” “I didn’t mean to ignore your question earlier it took me by surprise but if you still want to we can go to the museum.” He rushes out. "Okay" "Okay?" "Yea we can still go. See you there at noon." She says. "Okay… see you at noon." That was strange but at least he knew now that she wasn't mad. 

At noon on the dot Spencer is at the spot she texted him to meet her. He hasn't seen her yet maybe she decided not to come after all, maybe she really was mad at him, maybe… He turns, feeling a tap on his shoulder. Standing there is, Y/N bright smile on her face as always but the closer he looks he begins to think she might just be trying to kill him. She is wearing a sweater with a mini skirt, thigh high stockings, and knee high boots. Spencer's mouth grows dryer by the second, he licks his lips before talking. "Oh you're here." "Of course I'm here I invited you remember." She giggles out. "You ready to go in?" He just nods in response not trusting his voice. "Okay, so we can start at the Garden Lounge and work our way through." An hour later the awkwardness had faded as they got into a small competition as each of them tried to share facts before the other could. Leaving the mummy exhibit up ahead they see a sign for the O. Orkin Insect Zoo and Y/N stops abruptly. "I'm not going in there." "Are you entomophobic?" Spencer asks teasingly. "No I'm not afraid but I'm not going in there. Bugs should be outside making them easier to avoid." She says slowly backing away. "So you are accepting defeat? I didn't take you for a person who would simply give up." She knew what he was doing, she was extremely competitive, loved to win but the last place she wanted to be was surrounded by bugs. Spencer was pulling her by the arm closer to the door and she dug the heels of her boots into the ground. "C’mon or admit that my intelligence exceeds yours since I know there is no reason to fear insects." She despised him at this moment not willing to give in so easily she hesitantly follows behind him. As soon as they walk through the doors she immediately regrets that decision. The incessant chirping, buzzing and fluttering of wings made Y/N want to bolt in the other direction. The hairs on her body stand on end and she immediately feels as though there is something crawling on her. Spencer didn't actually expect her to walk into the room with him he thought she would simply give up and pull away the second he opened the door. But here they were and she looked absolutely frightened and now he didn't know what to do next. Deciding to ease her suffering still holding onto her arm he walks them both back out the door they just came through. "Are you okay?" Spencer asks once they are back outside. She only nods but he can tell she is still bothered by what happened. "We can go check out the Ocean Hall exhibit. There aren't any insects there since technically there aren't any water insects." She snorts as she tries to take a deep breath calming herself but unable to stop the tiny laughter at his comments. "Alright let's go." Hours later they had seen nearly all of the exhibits before deciding to call it a day. Since she lived as she says within walking distance to the museum Spencer did what any gentleman would do and walked her home, even as she insisted that it was not necessary. They step out of the elevator into the foyer leading to her apartment, "It really wasn't necessary for you to walk me all the way home." "I know but I prefer to know you made it back safely." Spencer steps forward leaning in to hug Y/N, catching her off guard as she tenses tucking her arms into her body. Spencer flushes red they had never hugged before but this wasn't the moment to try that. "I'll… um I'll see you work." She says before stepping into her apartment closing the door behind her.

A/N: I’m sorry for this emotional roller coaster there will be redemption in the next part.

[thrushpot]

punch-drunk love

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“dUDE drunken confessions are my favorite trope!!!! I can so imagine a post-starcourt billy au with a reader who maybe was his friend beforehand but they never really acted on their feelings. the reader gets a phone call at like 2am and billy's just like "listen,,remember all those hours we spent in detention with mr kaminsky? I would do it all again if it meant just sitting beside you because sometimes I look at you and I just see goddamn gold. are you sure you're literally not the sun??" requested by anonymous.

word count: 2,454

warning(s): swearing, drinking

a/n: HECK YEAH MAN I wrote this shit up in like two hours, and I’d even be open to continuing it to like a part two if anyone wanted. drunk Billy in fics is always angsty and mean, but I wanted him goofy and soft!! thank you for adding cute ideas to the drunk call trope <3

—

Billy huffs as he clumsily grabs the next bottle and unscrews the lid with his teeth, spitting it out on the ground carelessly and taking a good chug. It quit burning his throat as it went down a while ago, and now he just feels the weight on his shoulders finally give out. His body wiggles as he tries to stand up from the couch he’d been surfing the whole night, and he gives a lighthearted chuckle to himself at the pleasant buzz flowing. It’s getting to that point of his binge drinking where mistakes are going to be made. He has a persistent urge to break the rules, to do something he’s never had the courage of doing sober.

After no thinking at all, because who the fuck needs a brain when you’ve got booze, he picks up the phone and dials a number he’s sure as shit hasn’t forgotten and will never forget. A smirk plays on Billy’s face, a cocky, shit-eating grin that spreads like he’s the goddamn Grinch and even shows the whites of his teeth while twirling the telephone wire similar to a schoolgirl calling their crush. It rings for about thirty seconds, until he’s hung up on and directed to voicemail.

“Fuck! Don’t be a fuckin’ drag, Y/N. C’mon,” he whines as he kicks the cabinet by his knees, then hangs up and spins the rotary dial to yours again. He licks his upper lip deviously and takes a sip from the bottle he had opened, and waits for your sweet voice on the line again. All hope is lost when there is no answer once more, so he just curses and nearly chucks the phone out of desperation. Billy also thinks of leaving another voicemail this time around except more lengthy and demanding, something to grab your attention and make you talk to him again. That’s all he wants, after all. It’s been months since he’d even seen your pretty face sitting in the desks sideways, and he regrets not kissing the smile you always wore when he had you right there in front of him in detention every week.

Before getting to know you he’d settle for trying to make you laugh in the bleak silence of Mr. Kaminsky’s classroom, attempting to balance a spoon on his nose or throwing paper airplanes your way. Billy figured you were just laughing at his antics out of politeness but didn’t care to actually speak to him, that is until you threw a crumbled piece of paper at him one sunny day in regular boring shitsville of Kaminsky’s. It took him by surprise, considering it flew right to his face while he was zoning out, and he reacted by flailing in embarrassment before exclaiming a defensive “WHAT THE HELL?”. It was the most unique companionship the boy had ever had that followed after your laughing and pointing a finger at him. He had to give it to you, it was pretty funny. When he recovered from your attack, he shook his head with a small grin as he unwrapped your note, reading “heads up” in that adorable sloppy handwriting.

After that, the rest is pretty much history. Billy was hooked to goofing around with you more often, and you both always made it a point to get in trouble just to spend time together in detention. Considering this wasn’t hard at all for the blonde boy, getting into fights with guys or taunting the girls, even falling asleep mid-lecture, detention was another place to call home. You, however, chose how and when you got caught.

Billy never really did gather up the courage to say what he was thinking about day or night, how pretty he thinks you truly are and that you don’t even know it, which makes it that much more special. Not to mention the countless numbers he’d done howling with laughter at a comment you made, feeling like he just got a workout after laughing so much. He never got to tell you that those moments are all he’d look forward to day in and day out. That if his dad smacked him around if he misbehaved the slightest bit at home, or if teachers were ruthless and judgemental in every class, then he could take all that. He could take the whooping and the ass beatings and the name calling, if it meant he got to spend two hours fucking around in detention staring at you. A place where nothing is supposed to happen, and no one interesting usually attends.

Billy’s made progress gulping half his bottle, now picking at a protein bar from the kitchen, trying and failing to open the impossible wrapper. He almost decided on just eating the whole damn thing, fuck the wrapper, until the obnoxious blaring of the telephone rings. He’s quick to react, as drunk as he is, and tosses the snack he planned to scarf down before tripping to get to the phone. He picks up and holds it to his ear.

“Hello?”

There it is, that voice again.

“Heeeey. Hey there, little miss thing. It’s Billy Boy,” he draws out each word, trying to sound suave even if he hiccuped a little when he greeted you. Copying the same movements he did when he first tried ringing you up, he tangled the wire between his fingers and stared at the table dreamily, imagining you in your comfy clothes. Smiling and cozy.

“Woah, uh, hey Billy. It’s been a little while, what’re you up to calling this late?” you inquire over the phone, and he pictures you rubbing your eyes before stretching and yawning and he just wishes so bad that he got to see that madness.

“Mm, no no no. I’m curious about what you’re doin’,” he replies suggestively, smacking his tongue in his mouth.

“What? I’m sleeping, dude. I’m all for this reuniting thing, but could’ya please just have waited ‘til morning like a normal human being?” you say, growing a little frustrated at the randomness of the call and his ambiguous intentions.

“No Y/N! It’s top secret stuff, believe me. Fucking important that I call you now, at,” he bends over backwards to check the clock that glows on the microwave, “two fifteen in the morning. We never just talk like we used to, y’know since we graduated and all,” Billy complains like a petulant child, not hiding it in his voice that he’s pouting.

There’s a second of silence, and he slurs out your name to see if you rudely hung up on him again, until you speak.

“Are you calling me drunk?”

“Nuh-uh, silly goose. I never said that you were drunk,” he snorts, having to regain his balance after getting too excited and almost falling over with the phone still tucked in his right shoulder. He hears a long sigh being let out on the other end.

“Oh for fucks sake—“

“You always get so mad when you’re cute, d’you know that? Wait. I mean, fuck, lemme try that again,” the boy squints and puts his fingers on his temple to try to focus. “You’re really hot when you’re mad. There. Nailed it,” he finishes.

“Oh my gosh, you poor thing. Dude, you’re shit faced,” you crack up. “This is gonna be even funnier in a few hours. Not for you, I mean, you’ll probably have a killer hangover, but I for one am enjoying this.”

“Oh yeah? You like it, don’tcha cutie pie?”

“Sure do. Tell me more, Casanova.”

“Mmm yeah, I’ll tell you more. Right after you tell me what you’re wearing,” he chews on his lip, thinking that this is all going perfectly to plan. You double take, then decide to play along just for shits and giggles.

“Okay, you asked for it. I have my old Hawkins High gym t-shirt on, and some Spider-Man sweats on too. Oh, also some slippers, because the floor is cold,” you finish, hoping he’s satisfied.

“Noooo, c’mon. Fuckin’ lame-o. I wanna know what’s underneath,” he whines after not getting the kind of answer he wanted to get. Getting horny was always a given when he had a couple drinks, but what with having absolutely no filter and you right there on the phone, he’s getting irresistibly antsy. Wishing you were right next to him, so he could claw at your clothes and whisper his dirty thoughts into your neck.

“Fat chance there, hot-shot. What was it you were saying before? Oh yeah, about how I’m awesome and beautiful. Wanna keep goin’?”

“Ugh. Fine. If y’like lame sweet talk, then listen up, sweet cheeks. Remember all those long hours in Kaminsky’s? That old man would bitch at me for breathing, and like, existing. So, like the fuckin’ moron he is and the fuckin’ nuisance I am, I would get assigned to be there every day. I coulda ditched lots of times, just sneak through the window if he turned his bald head around or somethin’. But I never did. ‘Cuzza you. In fact, I’d do it all over again. Wanna know why?”

Billy’s now crashed into the nearest chair by the island in the kitchen, staring up at the ceiling and itching his crotch like the drunken mess of a boy he is. The clock on the microwave now glows the numbers 2:28 AM.

You’ve been stunned to silence, not quite knowing whether to laugh anymore or take what he’s saying truthfully or with a grain of salt. They always say that after someone’s had a few, that those are the times they spout about what’s really on their mind all the time.

“I-I don’t know about this, Billy.”

“Nope! Try again,” he giggles, putting the phone in a comfy spot nestled by his ear as his clumsy hands struggle to unbutton his shirt more for better comfort.

“...Cause of, cause of me?” you peep, unsure of yourself.

“Ding ding ding! Give the pretty girl a prize!” he claps his hands when they’ve fully undone the confines of his t-shirt, then laying back and sinking impossible further into the chair. He reaches for the bottle that has yet to be finished, and licks his lips as he realizes how thirsty he is for more.

“Billy don’t — stop it. Stop drinking, I can hear you. You’ve had enough,” you calmly advise, growing more nervous at the heavy weight this whole conversation has thrown at you. Since when did Billy feel this way?

“Aww, takin’ care a me. Such a sweetheart,” he marvels, blushing but keeping the bottle in his grasp. “You wanna know somethin’ else?”

“No, I don’t think I do. Not until we can discuss this when you haven’t been drinking.”

Billy chooses to ignore that and goes on.

“I’d just — when I looked at you, in detention, where we were like a thousand percent of the time together, I just. Can’t help but see goddamn gold. You’re the goddamn sun, you know that? I’m talking to the sun right now,” Billy suddenly wants to be held and nurtured, feeling tears well up in his eyes and his nose begin running funny. He doesn’t feel so good anymore.

Things are quiet on your end. Billy doesn’t know what your silence means, but it doesn’t seem too good.

“Y/N? When you looked at me, d-did you ever like, feel the same way? Look at me like that? Like I’m the sun?” he asks, desperate for your validation and then sniffled as the tears now started running down his cheeks in waves. He’s a hot mess.

“Billy... you never talked to me outside of detention. Like I didn’t exist, or I wasn’t cool enough to hang out anywhere else. I never knew...” you trailed off, trying to fight off your own tears and the overwhelming feeling his confession had given you.

“Y-You were so cool, I woulda hung out with you more if I wasn’t such a fucking bastard, or such a goddamn coward. But I miss you, and I wanna kiss you everywhere and I wish you could hold me all th’time,” his self pitying erupts to sobs as he finally lets go of the bottle that he clutched between his hands. It rolls into the floor, thankfully not breaking on the way down, but the contents begin leaking out onto the rug. Billy has yet to notice, still fumbling over his words and thoughts. He regrets getting this blasted now.

“Billy?”

“Hmm?” he mumbles, still not quite over himself as he hugs his bare chest, shirt still remaining open.

“Of course I looked at you like were the sun. Anybody who didn’t, like Kaminsky, or your fake asshole friends, they all don’t matter, okay? Please let me know if you’re hurting. Have you been home alone drinking?”

“Yeah, I have. And, and’ya really actually mean it? That stuff you said?”

“I would never lie to you. I’m really tired, and I’m so sorry for doing this to you, but I have to get back to bed,” you say, reluctantance in your tone as you sigh prettily in his ear once more.

“I’m gonna, I’m sleepy too. Real sleepy. Talk soon?” Billy asks, sounding about as hopeful as a child on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

“Mmmkay. G’bye, pretty girl.”

You let out a breathy laugh at that, then say your farewell, advising him to drink a glass of water and take an Advil before hanging up. The blonde drunk is absolutely exhausted, the whirlwind of emotions that you and the alcohol had put him through had knocked the boy right out. He face plants into the cushions of the couch for a minute, getting close to sleep until a sudden twinge in his gut pulls him up awake. He then makes a run for the bathroom, slipping on the spilled booze on the floor from earlier, and barely makes it in time. He pukes up all the drinks he had for a good five minutes, heaving sickly into the bowl and helplessly clawing at the toilet seat for a better grasp.

Once he’s sure that he has nothing left in his stomach to give, he sits up and scoots to the wall for support, wiping his mouth and hissing in disgust at the bitter taste it left. He gets comfortable even in an odd position, sitting up with his back against the wall right next to the toilet, and decides that this is where he’ll sleep for tonight. As Billy yearns for a much needed deep drunk sleep, he mumbles to himself under his breath about Y/N and her smile and the sun.

—

edit: there will be a sequel, writings in progress ! do not panic I swear this isn’t supposed to end bleak and depressing, I just wanted to show Billy being a hot mess. at first I kinda thought oooh this ending’s fine, if ppl want a sequel ig ill do it, but after reading it over myself I kinda went “the fuck?? this boy deserves to be happy” so I'm gonna do it. if anyone wants a tag as usual, just let me know ! & thank you for the sweet comments and reblogging, I can't be more thankful:)

[tsipasce]

Same Difference, Ch.10

A/N: FYI, more violence with a spritz of character development~

Chapters: 01  |  02 |  03 |  04 | 05  | 06 | 07 | 08 |  09

AO3 | Fanfic

A month had passed since Nanami began training with Rappa. Though she regularly checked her eardrums to make sure they hadn’t ruptured from his teaching style, aka yelling 24/7, she was already seeing the benefits. Thanks to his recommendation to add some more proteins and healthy fats to her diet, she noticed her muscles were more toned. And thanks to his “be ready for a fight at all times” attitude, she noticed her reflexes had improved. It was an effective way of teaching as it carried over to her life outside of the gym, much to the disappointment of Dr.Tanaka who was notorious for his practical jokes and jump scares around the hospital.

“It’s no fair, you’re always so ~*cool and reserved *~ now. How am I supposed to get in my midday pick-me-up pranks in now?” Tanaka whined as they sat in the café for their coffee date.

“Oh, so I’m cool now? Besides, if you need a mental break, just lock your office door and hide under your desk like the rest of us functioning adults.” She replied, casually sipping her drink while checking her phone.

“You kids nowadays, always so depressing. What’s got you so zoned into your phone anyways?”

“One, you’re literally only 5 years older than me. And two, you wouldn’t get it, old man.”

Tanaka gasped dramatically clutching at an imaginary dagger in his heart. “You wound me—oh thank you!” he responded as the barista brought his drink over, cutting off what Nanami was sure would have been a Shakespearean performance. “Anyway, so how’re your classes going? You look like you’re getting shredded already.”

“Oh please, it’s only been a month or so. But to answer your question… it’s been awesome! Super tiring, but awesome, nonetheless. I feel… more secure.” The conversation was meant to be light, but the last part came out more sincere and thoughtful than she intended.

From across the table, Tanaka could see a far-off look in her eyes as she gazed out the window for a beat, fiddling with the crow keychain on her phone. He knew there was something more going on that she wasn’t telling him since her fiasco at the construction site but also knew better than to pry. From her residency until now, Nanami proved she could handle herself and he trusted that if she wasn’t saying anything, it was probably for good reason. However, it did little to alleviate his worry.

Looking back across the table, Nanami could see her friend deep in thought. Tanaka was a goofball, but he knew when something was off and when to get serious. Though she was protecting him, Hitomi, and everyone else close to her by lying, the guilt persisted. Now realizing they were staring at each other, they shared a moment of realization and then a snicker, and a laugh. A knowing smile crept across their faces, Nanami patting Tanaka’s hand.

“You’re a real bro, you know that?”

“Always.” He smiled warmly as his beeper went off, “Oop, duty calls. We’re still on for dinner next week though, right?”

“Oh yeah, let me write it down before I forget. I’ll meet you at the restaurant, sound good?”

“You bet, I’ll see you later—be safe getting home, ok?”

“Of course,” She smiled, nodding. Nothing was said directly, but she knew what he meant. He left the café, Nanami now enjoying her mocha and treats at last.

Looking back at her burner phone for what felt like the millionth time today, there were still no further messages. It had been a week and a half since she’d seen Overhaul. It was Sunday night when her phone vibrated, the text simply reading “Out on business. Be back in 2 weeks.” The follow-up text coming a minute later, “Don’t burn the place down.” Looking back at them she found herself almost sad she wouldn’t be seeing him for a bit before slapping herself back to reality. I am not sad, I do not miss him. I am elated to have a break from that moody asshole.

As she cursed into her cup, a crow perched itself on the windowsill by her table. It pecked at the glass, cawing, interrupting what would have been a peaceful break. Nanami leered, irked at the timing. Tch. Still better company. She mused, comparing the two birdbrains. She smiled smugly as an idea popped into her head that she was just bored enough to entertain. Pulling up the camera app, she snapped a picture of the winged nuisance, sending it with the caption “Found your replacement.” After a quick chuckle to herself, a sense of panic came over her as she realized what she’d done. That was definitely too casual. He’s probably carrying out a hit or something and you sent a dumb picture of a bird? Why am I such a cornball? She bemoaned inwardly as she hurriedly locked the phone, laying it face down on the table like the bad decision would go away if she simply ignored it. He probably won’t even reply anyway… He’ll just give me a judgmental look when he gets back and never speak of it again…First order of business is finding a rock to crawl under.

Just before she facepalmed herself into oblivion, the phone vibrated. Her eyes shot wide as she stared at the offending object, knowing she’d have to pick it up at some point. Clearing her throat, she worked up the courage to turn over the phone, the text reading, “Same here.” with an attachment. She opened it up, choking on her drink when she saw a picture of a dumpster.

Yup, I walked right into that one. She thought, shedding a single tear inwardly, having only the strength to send a sad face emoji.

“Busy now. See you Monday.”

Sighing in defeat, Nanami gathered her things, hoping whatever had him so busy would make him forget her blunder.

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was now Thursday evening and Nanami was in her workout gear, walking briskly towards the training room. Hearing Rappa completing his usual sets, she knew it was time to put her game face on. They’d been sparring twice a week after each session, but beforehand, he had her doing a myriad of drills and weightlifting. As she approached the door cautiously, she heard his voice booming, “DON’T JUST SIT OUTSIDE, GET IN HERE AND ON THIS BENCH.”

“Yes sir!” She piped, knowing he was officially in drill sergeant mode.

Dropping her bags and plopping in her earplugs, she headed over to the benches, completing her sets as Rappa counted aloud each repetition while throwing motivational insults in the mix. She knew the words “Get to it you sad sack of bones” and “you wreak of failure” had to be on a Ballmark card somewhere.

Finishing out her final squatting reps with a grunt, she wracked the bar, breathing heavily. Just as she was fantasizing about the water bottle in her bag, she heard him yell “NO BREAKS YET, MAGGOT” as he swung at her. She barely had time to dodge, but a week ago it would have grazed her and two weeks ago it would have had her doubling over as it made full contact. Without a second thought, she had her guard up and she was in the proper stance to launch a counterattack. They traded blows, Nanami landing 5 for every 10 of his. She’d made great strides, but becoming a master fighter in a matter of weeks just wasn’t realistic, quirk or not.

This continued for an hour, Nanami only taking a break to heal her injuries. Though it wasn’t the main goal, she’d cut her healing time in half, but it came at the price of pain. Having to repeat this over and over on small parts of her body, she could see how it would be slightly maddening to perform it on a large scale over the course of a lifetime. Interrupting her thoughts, Rappa landed another punch to her gut before tossing her across the room. Her recovery was better than the first time, but it still hurt like hell. She staggered, rushing to heal and counter him as he charged forward.

She was knocked down again and again, but refused to stay down. Today, she felt he was being particularly hard on her, but she wanted to rise to the occasion striking back every chance she got. Now feeling her stamina running low, she stumbled to her feet again, assuming her stance as she had the first time.  

“Why don’t you just use it?”

A bit dazed from the last blow, Nanami asked what he meant.

“Your quirk. Why aren’t you using it to defeat me?”

“What’s with this all the sudden?” She rasped, still out of breath, “I’ve been using it this whole time.” She defended, weakly gesturing to the pillars she’d created to help her maneuver around the arena.

“No. I mean on me. You could have ended this an hour ago… Is this a game to you?” He spoke gravely, sounding a tad annoyed.

“What? No, not at all. I ju—”

“NO EXCUSES. You think your opponent will care about your little hang-ups when it’s life or death?” He cut her off as he charged forward, barely missing her as the punch landed on the floor leaving a small crater. Her eyes widened at the realization that the punch would have split her in half.

“That could’ve killed me!”

“THAT’S THE POINT!”

The adrenaline began rushing through her veins as she felt the air in the room shift. Behind every blow there was killing intent. Confused as to why he was now hellbent on escalating the match, she managed to blurt out “W-why are you doing this?!” as she rolled to dodge another potentially fatal blow.

“YOU’RE MESSING AROUND. TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY AND STOP BEING A FUCKING COWARD!”

Still not understanding his anger, she continued to try and dodge like her life depended on it, because in that moment, it did.

“THERE’S NOTHING MORE DISRESPECTFUL THAN HOLDING BACK WHEN YOUR OPPONENT IS GIVING THEIR ALL. YOU’RE GONNA DIE RIGHT HERE IF YOU DON’T FIGHT ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!”

She knew what he wanted her to do, but the fear of losing control was still there. In her moment of doubt, he landed a blow that sent her flying into one of her pillars. She heard a sickening snap as her leg bashed into the corner of the structure, undoubtedly shattering her femur. The pain was more than she expected, and she cried out bitterly for a moment before stifling it once again as blood welled up into her mouth from the previous blows. Spitting lazily, she saw him stalking towards her as he continued to speak, “Do you think someone in a real match is going to use restraint and wait for you to have your little breakthrough? Plenty of weaklings would kill to have a quirk like yours, but here you are wasting it. Makes me sick.” He spat, as he bent down to hold her up by the neck and she thrashed in vain to break free. “I dunno who I saw during that trial, but you sure as hell aren’t her. Let me end this pathetic existence for ya,” he said squeezing tighter.

Suddenly, the fear turned into anger and a calm rage came over her as she stopped thrashing and used her right hand to grasp firmly on his wrist. “You don’t know shit about me, but you’re about to fuck around and find out.” Taking as deep a breath as she could while still in his chokehold, Nanami focused on his anatomy, surveying every cell, every blood vessel, and every hair. In the next instant, she dropped to the floor as red coated the arena. Looking up, a moment of pure terror took over her being as the flashbacks to the first time she’d done this took over. Hyperventilating, a million thoughts raced through her mind. Just as she was felt she was drowning, she felt two hands grabbing her shoulders, squeezing firmly giving her a gentle shake before letting go. It may have been part of the episode or her brain trying to regain control, but it was enough to bring her back to earth long enough to calm down.

After a few, centering breaths, she managed to recompose herself, taking stock of the situation. Rappa was now all over the room, literally coating it. No. No more panicking. You have to focus before it’s too late to put him back. Remember the structure. Remember the shape. She repeated to herself like a mantra before gaining a clear picture in her mind of how to assemble him. Pressing her hands to the floor he was now embedded in, the pieces of him came rushing back, snapping back into shape before her eyes.

He took a sharp inhale, staring at his hands in almost disbelief that he was real. She watched him closely, hoping she hadn’t forgotten any pieces of him. He stared in her direction for a beat and she wondered if “he” was still in there or if she’d brought back some empty husk. Her question was soon answered.

“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH! I THOUGHT I WAS A GONER, BUT YOU DID A BANG-UP JOB!” He boomed.

“I…I almost had a mental break and you’re critiquing me on my timing?? You almost killed me!”

“Yup, but you got me first. Good job today.” He reassured her, now serious.

Still reeling, all she could manage was a weak, “Thanks.”

He closed the distance between them, extending a hand in front of her. They clasped forearms as he pulled her up and she quickly remembered she hadn’t fully healed since the last couple blows. Leaning on him a bit she recovered, hoping to never have to fix injuries like them again, at least on herself. They walked over to the seats lining the walls and sat down, both recovering from the mini trauma session.

“Hey doc,”

“Yeah?”

“What made you wanna train?”

She flinched reflexively, posting up before he reassured her it wasn’t the pretext to another barrage of attacks. “Well… to get stronger, obviously. Why do you ask all the sudden? Never figured you one for deep conversation.” She remarked, taking a swig from her water bottle.

“Just curious. You and the boss got the same quirk. I think man-to-ma—or person-to-person combat is the greatest thing in the world, but you don’t have to go through all this. Most people with quirks as powerful as yours just kinda coast off that.”

She thought for a moment, reflecting to give an honest answer,” I want to be more than this.” She said, studying at her hand, outstretched in front of her. “A lot of people become reliant on their quirks--  and I did the opposite-- but in a way it’s just a different side of the same messed-up coin. I still let it define me. I just want to be capable, quirk or not… Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah, I think it does.” He said giving her a firm pat on the back, “Go get some rest, doc. “

He rose, leaving the room and Nanami alone with her thoughts. Thinking back to what grounded her earlier, she remembered a detail and quickly shook it off. He’s not even here. I really need to go home and sleep this off. And promptly call my therapist…

As she grabbed her things to go, she was so focused, she hadn’t noticed the familiar figure in the room. Clearing his throat to get her attention, she nearly jumped out of her skin. So much for the awareness training...

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He raised his brow at the obvious question.

“Well, not like that. I mean of course you’d be here; I just mean... like what are you doing here now?” she managed to get out. Why the hell am I nervous?

“I finished my business early, decided to see how you’d progressed.”

“Oh, ok. So… you saw all that, huh?” she cautioned a glance, more than a little embarrassed.

“Most of it.”

“…Any thoughts?”

He paused, before answering,” Rappa was correct. Your hesitation will get you killed. Don’t make the same mistake again, I might not be there the next time.”

She nodded, walking past him towards the door before taking a moment to register what he’d said, “Hey, by the way… when I… disassembled him—I know this is a silly question—but did you… do anything?” she almost immediately regretted even asking.

“Like what?” His expression was blank.

Sighing to herself she decided it had to have been her brain throwing her a bone back there to save her from a mental break, “You know what? Nevermind. I’m just tired, must’ve been imagining things. See you later.”

As he watched her leave, he retrieved a clear bag with his bloodied shoes and gloves, glad he had returned earlier than planned. Replacing his subordinate would be an inconvenience, but replacing a partner would have been infinitely more difficult.

[legendofzeldaalinktothepast]

Cuspids - Chapter 1

Fandom - Hannibal 

Relationship - Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter 

Rating - M (violence in future chapters) 

Next Chapter 

Werewolf/Vampire AU. 

“Will Graham, an introverted high school biology teacher, has been feeling rather isolated. Maybe it's his neurodivergence, or his deteriorating mental health; or maybe it's the fact that he turns into a bloodthirsty werewolf every full moon. Fortunately for Will, Dr. Hannibal Lecter understands exactly where he's coming from.” 

Will dropped his pen against the desk with a sigh and buried his face into his hands. Nearly an hour had passed since the students left the school, and he’d barely made a dent in the stack of papers he needed to grade… Any other day, he’d be nearly finished; yet on this particular afternoon, focusing was next to impossible. 

He knew why his mind wasn’t all in the right place, too, which somehow made it all the more frustrating; it was the afternoon before a full moon. His transformation only began as the sun set, and his full form reared its ugly head the precise moment the full moon was visible in the sky... But in the daylight hours beforehand, weakness would overtake his body. 

His skin would prickle, as if preparing for the thick fur that would burst from his flesh... And the hunger was unbearable. Nothing he ate would satisfy him -- nothing but the fresh prey that he’d kill with his own fangs, but that obviously wasn’t something he could eat in a teacher’s lounge. 

"Will?"

Will flinched in surprise as he spotted Jack in the doorway. He hadn't heard his footsteps in the hallway, or even noticed he’d opened the door.

At seeing his reaction, Jack's already-concerned expression only deepened. "I need to talk to you about something."

"May I recover from my heart attack, first?" Will said with a sigh, taking a sip from his water bottle. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair. “Alright, lecture away.”

"I’m not here to lecture you." Jack said, pulling up a chair and seating himself on the opposite end of Will’s desk. In response, he turned his gaze back down to his stack of paperwork. Eye contact simply wasn’t one of Will’s qualities, which Jack had come to understand, and he'd learned to distinguish when Will was listening and when he was flat out ignoring him. This time, fortunately, he knew it was the former.

“So what’s on your mind?” Will said, tapping the paper with his pen.

"I think I should be the one asking you that." Jack said with a slight smile. "I'm talking to you about this in private so it won't feel like an intervention. You haven't been yourself lately."

Will rolled his eyes without thinking. ’It sure feels like an intervention.’

"...And I understand why you refuse to seek therapy, and that your personal life and well being are not my business." Jack continued, biting back the urge to scold Will for rolling his eyes at him. "But Will, students are starting to notice. Some have come to me with genuine concern, others crack jokes in the hallway.”

"I’m a teacher, Jack. They're going to crack jokes about me no matter how mentally well I am." Will sighed.

"Yes, but this isn’t about jokes,” Jack began, “It’s about you; you’re zoning out during lessons and calling off every other week. And once the students start noticing, that’s a sign you need to get yourself a therapist.”

Will tightened his grip on his pen. He knew it was coming, but that T word simply made the hairs on his spine prickle. "I'd rather eat the gum from under the cafeteria tables."

"Will." Jack glared at him; his patience was clearly thinning the longer this conversation went on. "If you won't see a therapist... I’m asking at the very least that you talk to someone.”

"I'm talking to someone right now." Will joked.

"I mean Dr. Lecter."

Will glanced up from his papers, raising an eyebrow. "You want me to talk about my problems to a high school counselor?"

"As far as I'm concerned, he has the degree required to figure out what the hell is going on with you." Jack said. "I'm not doing this to make you uncomfortable, Will... I wouldn't be doing this if I was the only one concerned. But even Freddie has started worrying about you."

Will dropped his pen. “Damn, seriously? Even I’ll admit that’s concerning.” he said with a laugh.

"Exactly. Now, I know I can't force you to do anything..." Jack said, rising back to his feet. "But if you know what's good for you, you'll either see a psychiatrist or at bare minimum talk to Dr. Lecter."

"If it'll help you sleep at night, I'll have a conversation with him tomorrow during lunch." Will said.

Jack smiled. It had been a while since Will had seen him so genuinely pleased with him, and he couldn’t help feeling slightly relieved. “Yes, I’ll sleep very well tonight knowing that.” he said.

"Alrighty then." Will said. "Anything else on your mind, or am I free to get back to work?”

"I won’t disrupt you again." Jack said with a nod, and pulled the door shut behind himself. 

* 

"Soup's on, guys!" Will announced, and the horde of dogs scampered straight into the kitchen.

”Food! Food!” the dogs barked.

He placed six bowls down on the rubber place mats, each filled with dog food he'd prepared from scratch. As he watched the dogs dig in, Will felt his own hunger growing more intense. He tapped his nails against the kitchen counter, peering outside at the sunset; the sky hadn't darkened quite enough yet, but as the hair on his body thickened, and his sharpening canines pressed against his tongue, he knew the full moon would be out any minute, now.

Will glanced back at the dogs one last time, and then made his way towards the back door. “I’m gonna head out, now. Watch over the house for me.” he said.

”Be safe, Will!” Winston said.

”Bring me home a rabbit!” Buster barked, wagging his tail.

“Can’t make any promises, but I’ll try." Will chuckled.

As he stepped outside, he gazed into the vast woods just beyond his back yard. He took in the scents of the forest; mostly squirrels, mice, birds, a rabbit or two... Certainly not enough to nourish a fully transformed werewolf, but thankfully, he had the whole night to hunt down more substantial prey.

The chilly night air ruffled his fur. As the sky darkened, Will sank down to all fours and lurked into the darkness. 

* 

The school bell rang, grating against Will’s sleep deprived head, and he rubbed at his ears with his knuckles.

“No homework tonight, but try to review pages 105 through 115.” he said as the students filed out, rubbing his eyes.

As the classroom emptied, Will grabbed his water bottle and headed for the door; Jack passed him in the hallway, giving him a look that said “You better be going to Dr. Lecter’s office”, and Will responded with an eye-roll that said “Yeah, yeah, get off my ass already.”

Will walked against the current of noisy teenagers heading for the cafeteria, apologizing as he bumped into someone here and there. The mere thought of eating lunch nauseated him; after his monthly transformation and hunt, he’d scarfed down enough meat to hold him off for the next week.

Soon enough, he’d reached the office, and he gave a brief knock on the glass window.

The door immediately opened, as if Hannibal had been waiting for him. ’Weirdo.’

“Good afternoon, Mr. Graham.” Hannibal greeted with a polite nod. “Come in and have a seat.”

Will cautiously made his way into the office, seating himself in the leather chair across from Hannibal’s desk. On it was a wooden name tag that read “Dr. Hannibal Lecter”; there were a couple framed photographs and a single potted plant. In the center of the desk was a graphite drawing, though due to the dim lighting of the office, Will couldn’t see it very well.

“So, what would you like to talk about today?” Hannibal asked, sitting himself down in his rolling chair and placing his folded hands on his desk.

“Well, guess I’ll set something straight first.” Will said. “I told Jack I didn’t want to see a therapist. So… please don’t treat me like I’m your patient.”

“I had no intention of doing so.” Hannibal chuckled. “Jack told me you weren’t comfortable being a patient. We’re simply talking as coworkers; even friends, if that’s what you’d like.”

Will adjusted his glasses. “That’s what I’d hoped.” he said.

A silence filled the room; Hannibal watched Will expectantly as he bounced his leg, and once he realized Will wasn’t going to speak first, he decided to take the lead. “What is your life like outside of work, Will?”

Will tapped his fingernails against the arm rest. “I go home, take care of my dogs, sleep.” ’And once a month I turn into a vicious bloodthirsty canine that attacks everything in its line of sight.’

“Is that all?”

“More or less.”

“Well, that’s a start. It doesn’t sound like a very enriching lifestyle.” Hannibal said. As he spoke, he reached for a graphite pencil, turning his attention down to the drawing on his desk.

Will shrugged. “Maybe, but not the reason I’m here. Lately I’ve been… zoning out. Struggling to stay awake in class, not grading assignments on time. Jack told me students are starting to notice.”

“Maybe so, but there could be a correlation between the two.” Hannibal said, reaching for a pencil sharpener. “Humans are social creatures. Dogs can fulfill some of our needs, and so can the individuals we work with, but I have a feeling talking with people outside of a work environment would do you some good.”

“That’s technically what I’m doing now. I’m on my lunch break.” Will snorted.

Hannibal smiled. “That is true. And since I’m not your therapist, I suppose this counts.”

“Are you certain?” Will asked. “Or are you saying that just to make me more comfortable?”

“A therapist would not draw during a session with a patient.” Hannibal said, gesturing to the drawing in front of him. “I also cannot, ethically, be your therapist, considering we work in the same building.”

“Alright, fair enough.” Will said. “So… What do you do outside of work?”

“I spend time with my daughter. She’s one of your students; Abigail Hobbs.” Hannibal said. Will took a moment to place the name to a face; if he remembered correctly, she was a rather quiet girl from his third period. Dark hair, freckles, always wearing a scarf.

“Yes, I know Abigail. No kids for me, though.” Will said, though his dogs might as well have been his children. Especially on the nights where he transformed and his grasp on human language would fog over, replacing itself with the barks and growls only fellow canines would understand.

“Not everyone is ready for children. I adopted her very recently, and even at the age of seventeen, she can be a handful at times.” Hannibal sharpened his pencil as he spoke, the shavings dropping into a pile beside his canvas. He then brushed them into the trash can… One by one, meticulously. “I may seem like a bit of a hypocrite for telling you to socialize more… Seeing as I don’t leave my house nearly as much as I should, either.”

“Most doctors can’t practice what they preach.” Will said with a shrug. “I doubt my dentist flosses three times a day.”

Hannibal chuckled. “That is true.” he said. “By the way… Jack told me you were coming here on your lunch break. You’re free to eat in here in my office, but make sure to clean up any mess.”

“I don’t have one today. I’ve been feeling nauseous.” Will said; it wasn’t a lie, after all.

Hannibal smiled a bit, a slightly knowing expression in his eyes, but Will wasn’t quite sure why. “Well, I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks. I'll be fine.” Will said. He glanced at the time on his watch; fifteen minutes left until lunch was over. He knew he should stay and chat more, since he hadn’t really gotten anything out of this forced conversation… But he also hadn't expected to, and he never promised Jack he’d stay for the whole lunch period. Besides, he had a lot of papers to catch up on.

“Anyway, it was nice talking to you.” Will said, pulling himself to his feet. “But I think I've said just about all I needed to. At least for today. But I'll probably be back tomorrow, because Jack will absolutely nag me if I don't.”

Hannibal smiled. “I look forward to seeing you again." he said.

As Will made his way out, Hannibal pulled out a notepad from beneath his canvas. He jotted something down as a reminder to himself, and then slipped it back into place.

[darks-ink]

What A Nice Surprise CH.8

When will my linebreaks return from the war? Also more Valerie, whoo hoo, and a short appearance by Technus.

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter AO3 - FFnet

---

The Ghost Zone was dreary as always. Thick green ectoplasm coiled and misted, forming nebulous clouds that Danny easily passed through. His destination was a lair he’d never visited; he only knew where it was by chance. He’d seen the ghost exit it once before, while he had been fighting Skulker, and evidence suggested that it really was that ghosts lair.

And if not… well, it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d made a fool out of himself.

The door, exceedingly simple for the ghost it supposedly belonged to, appeared in front of Danny. He paused for a moment, hesitant. Then he braced himself. It had to happen. Jazz had really hit it off with Dora, but he couldn’t have her go into the Zone so often to visit her. And Sidney, too, would likely get along well with the two of them. The phones needed to be made, needed to work.

He knocked.

The door opened, a green-skinned ghost with a white mullet appearing in the opening.

“Ghost-Child?” Technus asked, frowning behind his glasses. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

“I saw you leave here once, while fighting Skulker.” He shrugged, fidgeting with the edge of his glove. “I, um. Heard that you were working on getting phones working here? And I wanted to help, if I could.”

Technus eyed him, probably trying to determine his genuineness. Then he floated aside, gesturing for Danny to enter. “Very well! But, Ghost-Child, do you know anything about tech besides how to destroy it?”

“Eh, not really.” Danny grimaced. No, unless fixing the Ghost Portal per accident counted, he didn’t have much experience with it. “But I have some earphones my parents invented. When we tested them recently they worked across dimensions, so I thought they might be useful to you.”

Then Danny shrugged. “Plus I might be able to get you material by buying it or taking it from my parents, so you don’t have to come and steal it.”

The full ghost barked out a laugh. “Very well! I will gladly take a look at this tech of yours.”

Nodding, Danny dug out the extra pair of Fenton Phones from his pockets. He had originally taken an extra pair to give to Valerie, but after their recent confrontation she hadn’t exactly warmed up to him. Since no further truces had formed, he might as well sacrifice them for this.

Technus took them from his hand, turning them this way and that. “And they worked across dimensions? These don’t look like anything special.”

“Uh, yeah. We tested them, my parents on one side and me on the other, and they worked just as well as when we were all in the Zone. And that was with three of them in the Human World and me in the Zone.”

Nodding, Technus floated over to the closest desk. “Well, let’s see how your parents managed it, then. And I assume you’ll want access to the tech too, in return for helping?”

“I mean, ideally I would offer this tech in return for you no longer attacking Amity, but I don’t think that that’s gonna happen.” Danny floated closer as well, keeping an eye on Technus as he disassembled one of the earpieces. “So yeah, I’ll settle for some of the tech so I can stay in touch with the Zone-bound ghosts.”

“What, your human family and friends not good enough for you?” Technus didn’t look up at Danny, but his tone seemed light and joking. Oh, if only Danny was better at reading people he wasn’t as familiar with. “You need to have ghostly allies too?”

“Well, I am half ghost and not just human,” he joked back, hoping he was reading the atmosphere right. “And I’ve had my current allies for a while, you know? Wulf and Dora and Frostbite, among others.”

Technus stilled for a moment. Then he jolted back into action. “You know Frostbite of the Far Frozen? And Queen Dorathea of Aragon?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny floated to the other side of the desk so he could watch Technus and the earphones simultaneously. “Dora is a close friend of mine, and Frostbite and his people worship me for defeating Pariah Dark. Why? Are they that well known in the Zone?”

The other ghost looked up from the gadgets to stare Danny in the eye. “Ghost-Child, your ignorance never fails to impress me.” Then his head turned down again as he continued working.

“What, you’re just gonna say that and not explain?” Danny’s spectral tail twitched in irritation, aura brightening slightly. “Should I have mentioned Pandora as well? I mean, it’s not like any of them are like Clockwork, right?”

Snorting, Technus shook his head. “Clockwork is just a legend, child.”

“Legendarily annoying, you mean.” Danny rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow which rested on nothing. “But I was serious about those guys being my allies, you know? Frostbite taught me how to use my ice powers, even.”

“Yes yes, of course he did.” Technus glanced between some of the parts he had just pried loose. “Between their tech and these gadgets of your parents, I could’ve made functioning phones ages ago.”

“Really?” Danny blinked, eyeing the ghost suspiciously. “If it’s just that easy, we can go to the Far Frozen right now. They’ll want to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t steal anything else, but otherwise it’ll be fine.”

The tech ghost looked up, eye-lenses wide. “You were serious? Yes, yes, let us go immediately.” He dumped the partially-deconstructed Fenton Phone on his worktable, pushing himself up into the air.

“I don’t joke about these things,” Danny said, half-offended. “I really am allied with these ghosts, and friends with most of them as well.”

Technus nodded along as they exited the lair. Then he paused, frowning. “Wait. So what about Clockwork? He’s just a Ghost Zone legend, right? How did you even hear about him?”

“He kept sending ghosts from the future to fight me,” Danny explained with a lopsided grin. “Eventually I followed one of those to Clockwork’s lair, got into a bit of a fight with him, and fell through one of his viewing screens into the future. Found my way back, took out the bad future me that came along, and apparently that was Clockwork’s plan all along.”

Huffing out a breath, Technus shook his head. “Jeez, child. That sounds too crazy to be true, but even crazier to have made up.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Danny laughed. “Try living it.”

“Not exactly alive anymore.” Technus slowed, letting Danny take the lead. “How far is the Far Frozen anyway?”

“Well…” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, it’s quite a ways, actually. When I visited with my parents last week, it took over an hour at the Specter Speeder’s highest speed.”

Technus glanced over at Danny, narrowing his eyes. Then he sighed. “And you are, once again, serious. You’re lucky that the Far Frozen has such attractive technology and that I’ve wanted to take a look at it for decades.”

Danny’s grin crept back onto his face. “Gotta get some good luck to balance out all the bad, sometimes.”

“That’s depressing, Phantom.”

---

“Alright,” Technus mumbled as a bit of tech clicked into place. “This should’ve done the trick.”

Danny looked up from his book – English homework for Lancer – and at his fellow ghost. “So how did it work, again?”

“It’s a chip. It needs to be installed in a phone for it to be able to connect to any other phone carrying the chip.” He held it out to Danny, demonstratively. “I’ve got two of these so we can test them. After that I can easily replicate it to make more.”

“So I’ll still need to equip everyone with phones.” Danny took the small device from Technus, turning it around in his hand. It was small. Smaller than his fingernail, even. He glanced away from it, back at Technus. “Do you have a phone to test this with?”

The ghost scoffed. “Who do you take me for, Ghost-Child? Of course I have a mobile phone!”

“Right, of course, I should’ve known.” Danny shook his head, using his free hand to pull out his phone. “So where should I plug this thing in?”

“Just phase it in. It’ll work even while intangible.” Technus shrugged at Danny’s incredulous look. “Listen, most phones don’t have a whole lot of free space, yeah? Easiest way to make it as compatible as possible is to make it work while intangible.”

Danny paused, thinking that over for a moment. Then he sighed, phasing the chip into his phone. “Yeah, alright, I guess that that’s fair.”

Just then his phone beeped, and he looked down at the screen. A new text message from an unknown number, simply reading ‘hello world’. He glanced over to Technus, who was now holding a phone as well.

“Really?” he asked, unamused. “Was that really the most creative thing you could think of?”

Technus clicked his tongue. “You disappoint me, Phantom. Your little tech-buddy would’ve gotten the joke, I’m sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Danny stuck his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, sure, whatever makes you feel better. I’ll send you a text when I make it back to the Human World, and then we can try calling after that?”

“Of course, Ghost-Child.” Technus sat down on the edge of his worktable. “But go and hurry, yes? I get bored waiting.”

“I’m not even gone yet!” Danny protested, floating over to the door. “But, just for you, I’ll fly at my top speed, alright?”

He didn’t hear whether Technus replied or not, as he’d already left the lair. True to word, he zipped to his parents’ Portal at top speed. He really hoped it had worked. Convincing Frostbite to let Technus access the Far Frozen tech hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought.

At least Technus himself seemed to have warmed up to Danny, now. Apparently his various Ghost Zone allies were too threatening for Technus to risk opposing. Well, if it worked, it worked.

Turning invisible just before he left the Zone, and intangible immediately after, Danny passed through his house unnoticed. He and Technus had decided beforehand that it would be best for him to put some distance between the phone and the Portal, as that might influence the reach as well.

He paused high above Amity Park, looking over the city. His city. With a grin, he pulled his phone from his pocket. First registering Technus in his contacts, he send a text back.

‘made it to amity,’ he simply said.

After a few long moments, his phone rang. Grinning wider, he answered it.

“Ghost-Child!” Technus said, his voice crackling like static – even worse so over the phone than in real life, but that might not be a side-effect from the chip but from Technus himself. “It worked, just like I said, didn’t it!”

“Uh, yeah. Your voice is kinda static-y, but you tend to sound like that while possessing technology as well so I don’t think that the chip is to blame for that.”

“Ha! No, it is not. My technology is flawless, Phantom! I, unfortunately, am not. But I will be, eventually!” Technus paused for a moment, a heavy rustling of his clothes filling the line instead. “I will have as many chips as you want for you tomorrow. Bring me a laptop like promised and I’ll leave your town alone.”

“And the rest of the Human World as well?” Danny’s grin fell a little as his eyes narrowed. Count on Technus to try for a loophole.

“Yes yes, of course. I might come visit Amity, but I will let you know beforehand and I will behave well,” the ghost promised.

“Alright. I’ll come by tomorrow, then.” Danny’s ears picked up an unfortunately familiar hum in the distance. “Anyway, I gotta go, Technus. I’ll get you that laptop, yeah?”

He hung up before the other could reply, just as Valerie entered his view.

“Phantom,” she growled, a gun forming in her hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Convincing Technus to stop attacking Amity Park,” Danny said casually as he pocketed his phone again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not falling for your charade, Phantom.” The pink elements of her gun started glowing, clearly preparing a shot. Danny got the feeling that she was glaring at him from behind her helmet. “Now release your hold on the Fentons and leave.”

“I’m not doing anything to the Fentons!” he protested, throwing his hands up. “Just because they’ve realized that I’m not the bad guy doesn’t mean that I did anything!”

“You’re just leading them to their deaths!” Valerie tensed, her fingers visibly clenching around the gun despite the thick armor around them. “And then before we know it, they’ll be gone or dead and you will be to blame!”

“If I wanted them dead I would’ve done it already!” Danny snapped before he could really think about it. Knowing he couldn’t take back his words, he continued at a quieter tone. “I’ve been in the Ghost Zone with them twice already. If I really did want them dead, wouldn’t that have been the perfect moment for it?”

Valerie snorted. “Like you ghosts are logical in any way. You’re not fooling me, Phantom.”

“I think that you said ‘I absolutely refuse you ever believe you,’ wrong.” He lowered his arms, crossing them instead. “But I’ve got better things to do. See you hopefully never, Val.”

Turning himself invisible, he dodged to the side in case she reflexively pulled the trigger. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the two of them had ever worked together. Multiple times, even!

He shook his head, flying away from her before she could get out her ghost scanner. Buying the laptop for Technus – and phones for his allies – would cost most of his saved money, but it would be worth it.

Now he just had to convince Jazz to let him phase the chip into her phone.

---

Danny left Sidney’s new phone in their shared locker at the start of the day. He had already added his own phone number, but otherwise the contact list was saddeningly empty. Soon, hopefully, Jazz’s number would join as well.

During lunch, his phone buzzed with a new text. Tucker and Sam looked confused, but didn’t say anything. Most of their lunches were spent in silence nowadays, anyway.

He supposed that they’d grown apart. One day, maybe, he could mend this relationship, too.

The text was, of course, from Sidney. ‘you really got me a phone?’

‘of course I did!’ he texted back. ‘has that new chip as well, so it works in both dimensions.’

‘holy moley!’ Sidney answered. ‘thank you! it is much appreciated!’

‘thank me when I convince jazz to get hers chipped as well.’

Sidney’s answer was a happy-faced emoticon. Danny felt his lip quirk into a smile, but caught Sam’s deepening frown from the corner of his eye and felt the happiness disappear again. Why couldn’t things just be easy for once?

Instead of explaining himself he took a big bite of his lunch. He had no excuses. None that wouldn’t involve a lot of lies, that wouldn’t just hurt them more.

When had his life gotten so complicated?

---

“Phantom,” Valerie said, sounding more resigned than angry. “What are you doing now?”

“Making imaginary friends,” he replied, dryly. He hadn’t looked away from the phones in his hands. There were several more lying scattered around him.

“Why.”

“Well, in actuality I’m working on being able to communicate with my friends and allies without having to travel between dimensions.” He confirmed the contact on the new phone, then looked at Valerie. “This way my friends can contact me without having to come to Amity if there’s trouble. Unless you prefer it when they come here?”

“So one of these,” she gestured at the wide spread of cheap cellphones, “is yours?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny flipped the phone in his left hand closed, laying it down on the rooftop he was sitting on. “But don’t worry, these are all totally legit. I bought them with actual legal money.”

She snorted. “Yeah, uh huh. Like I would believe that.”

“If I was stealing them, would I really have gone for the cheapest phones I could get?” He raised a brow at her, wishing he could see her face to read her expression. “Come on. Do you really think that badly of me, Red?”

“Worse, actually, but good try.” She shifted, one hand resting on her hip and the other hanging loosely. It would look like a relaxed position if it wasn’t for the gun holsters attached to her hips. “Give me your number.”

“Wow, I thought you weren’t into me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Hearing her growl, he raised his hands placatingly. “Yeesh, calm down, just joking. But, uh, no can do.”

“Why not?” she asked, voice still a low growl.

“Well, um.” Come on Fenton, think! You can’t give her your number, she’ll recognize it as Danny Fenton’s. Shoot, he really should’ve bought a phone just for Phantom. “Well, it’s… You see…”

An idea wormed its way into his brain, then, and he smiled. “The problem is that these don’t actually work with normal phones. They use a special chip, so they can only connect with phones that also have that chip. Not with actual mobile providers. Sorry, Red.”

She stood, unmoving, staring at him. Then she relaxed a smidgen. “Alright, fine. I’m willing to believe that, for now. But if I found out you lied to me…” she let the threat hang.

“I gotcha, I gotcha!” He glanced down at the phones. Only one more needed setting up, but that was Wulf’s and he had no way to reach the ghost anyway. Looking back at Valerie, he said, “I’m about done here, anyway. I’ll go and get out of your hair, deliver these to the Ghost Zone. If you run into Wulf, can you let me know or send him to me?”

“Who the hell is Wulf?” She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Please tell me that you didn’t name your dog Wulf.”

“Nah.” Danny flapped a hand, using his telekinesis to gather the phones again. “Wulf named himself. He’s more werewolf-y. Big, with black fur and green eyes. Huge claws. Can rip holes into reality to create portals between this world and the Ghost Zone.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “Nothing special. You probably won’t run into him, but you never know with that guy.”

“There are ghosts that can create their own portals?” Valerie asked, apparently focusing on that specific bit. Danny hoped that she had heard the rest, too. “That’s not a common ability, right?”

“Nah, no worries.” He pocketed all the phones, thanking his parents for the many surprisingly roomy pockets on his belt. “Wulf is one of the few ghosts I know who can do it. And they’re usually not malevolent – they have no reason to cause trouble since they can avoid unwanted contact much more easily.”

Valerie shook her head. “Somehow, Phantom, every thing I learn about your kind just makes me more worried instead of less.”

“It’s a familiar feeling,” he assured her with a grin. “Trust me, I’m still learning more and more myself. Anyway, thanks for not shooting me, Red. See you around.”

“I hope not,” Valerie muttered as he flew off.

---

It was, once again, the weekend. Danny rung the doorbell, then phased into his own house, dropping his invisibility.

“Oh, Phantom!” Jazz looked up from where she was sitting in the living room, reading a book. “Come to kidnap my parents again?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged, floating closer. “A while ago we did some tests with my abilities, but we never did all of them, so I thought we could finish them today.” Then he curled his hand around his chin, in a thoughtful look. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you as well.”

“Me?” Jazz asked, intrigued. She put down her book, turning to face him fully. “What about?”

“As you might’ve heard, we’ve been working on getting phones to work in the Ghost Zone.” He sat down on the arm of the couch, his boots resting on the seat. “And, in part thanks to your parents, we did it! Dora really enjoyed your talk, so she was hoping to share phone numbers so you could talk more.”

“Oh! Yes, sure.” Jazz fished her phone out, flipping it open. “What’s her number?”

Danny made a face. “Well, it’s not quite that easy.” He pulled out a chip from his pocket – the last one that hadn’t been connected to a phone. “See, the phones can only connect with each other if they all have this special chip in them. It needs to be phased into a phone – your phone.”

“Alright.” She held out her phone. “If it won’t do any damage, go and phase it into my phone, then.”

“You sure?” he asked, taking the phone from her hand already.

“I trust you, Phantom.” She sat back. “If you say it won’t do any harm, it won’t.”

His lip quirked into a smile. “Thanks.” The chip was phased into her phone, and he handed it back. “I… I really appreciate that. Your trust, I mean.”

“Of course.” She glanced down at her phone, then back up at him. “Say, does Sidney have a phone as well? Since he spends most of his time around here?”

“I got him one too, yeah.” He smiled knowingly. “Let me guess, you want his number as well?”

“Definitely.” She nodded. “Say, have they ever met?”

“No, not yet. I’ve been planning to introduce them, but I haven’t had a chance to, yet.” He leaned back, his weight resting on his hands. “Why? You hoping to introduce them, too?”

“I think they would get along well,” she admitted, a somewhat hesitant grin on her face.

“And being a group of friends will be better for everyone involved as well?” Danny suggested, knowing that that was what she was planning for. Or so he hoped. It was definitely what he wanted to happen.

“Uh… yeah. Absolutely.” She nodded a little too enthusiastically. “And, um, Phantom?”

“Yeah?” He stopped digging through his pockets for the sheet of paper he’d used to write down the numbers for Sidney and Dora.

“If I give you my number, can you spread it among the ghosts?” She fidgeted with her hands, as if she’d suddenly gotten shy over asking. “When I met Sidney, he said something that really hit me. That happy people don’t become ghosts, that most ghosts have trauma regarding their life – or death.”

“I mean, I guess so…” Danny said, uncertainly. “But how does that relate to…?”

“Well… these ghosts don’t seem to have any psychiatrists or anything,” she started to explain, haltingly. “So I thought… I can help Sidney, and I can help Dora. But there are so many more ghosts that could use my help, too. And if phones become more widespread, they could text or call me for advice, or ask to drop by. And then I can do my best for them, too.”

Danny blinked, surprised. He wasn’t sure why this had caught him off-guard so badly; Jazz had certainly seemed intent on doing this for every ghost she’d encountered so far. “Um, sure, I guess? But you might want to tell your parents as well, if you plan on having ghosts come by.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” She stood up suddenly. “Come on, they’re in the lab. They might not have heard the doorbell, otherwise they would’ve come up already.”

Floating up from the couch, Danny trailed after his sister. “Say, not that I don’t appreciate you wanting to help ghosts, but… Are you sure you’re ready to deal with them? Especially ones that might’ve attacked Amity Park before?”

“Maybe not.” She shrugged, not looking at him. “But if I don’t try, who will?”

[soysaucevictim]

Time for something different than the past few weeks - I’m going to get back on the programs/challenges thing. One less thing taking mental work (training plans are reasonably fun - but yeah).

-

Oct. 19

I woke up a bit before noon today.

Spent a good deal of the day on the usual stuff, before setting out to exercise.

First, today’s DD. 20 skydiver push-ups with EC. Got through by the skin of my teeth - despite running on coffee and chocolate beforehand. But mission accomplished.

(After some distractions and mulling over my exercise plans...)

Second, Day 1 of the 30 Days of HIIT Program. Cardio HIIT, done at Level 3. I definitely started to feel it in the latter half and it got me into the sweat zone really good! I didn’t realize until later that the main version discrepancy was in the number of sets per level was required. So this was a bit easier, on the face of it.

This is going to be a second go around for me and was one of the first programs I’ve completed by DAREBEE. So it’s going to be interesting to get it done at higher levels than before (with a newer version than what I did before). Let’s see if I can hit Level 3 all the way through!

Third, Day 1 of the Power Grip Challenge. 40″ of un/clenching fists. I wound up doing things a bit faster than the .gif. Remains to be seen if  can continue to out-pace it throughout the challenge. But I will try to make sure to “keep up”. This will be good for my wrists, especially with a long history at the computer. :,D

(After a few hours to chill, work on art, and wind down...)

Last, Day 1 of the Get To Bed On Time Challenge. I barely managed to get to bed before 1AM - but “I’ve got this.“

-

Oct. 20

I woke up a bit before 1PM, today.

Spent some time on the usual, before getting in my exercises.

First, today’s DD. 20 single leg deadlifts with EC (10/10). This took like 4 attempts but finally got it done. The successful attempt had a lot of wobbling, especially from a bit of muscle fatigue and frustration - but I managed to keep from falling out. Despite said frustration - I appreciate balance work a lot. :D

Second, Day 2 of the 30DoHIIT. Elbow plank, done at Level 3. This was one of the version discrepancies with the first time around, 10-20-30 vs 10-20-10-20. I think the new structure is a bit more challenging (possibly because sum rest time during the round is less). The first 10″ interval is a bit awkward because of the time spent getting to position after a timer reset.

Third, Day 2 of the PGC. 40″ overhead flex hold. This was surprising a bit challenging! I had to carry over the steady breathing from the HIIT workout, for sure.

(After doing some more Pomodoro-timed art progress in...)

Last, Day 2 of the G2B.

-

Oct. 21

I got up a bit before 9AM, today.

After a bit of gaming, doing some dishes, and rewatching some KLK, I went directly to getting my exercise in early.

First, today’s DD. 1′ plank leg raises with EC. I counted 62 reps, by the end. The form was a bit awkward to keep track of the timer on my desk from the floor for the first half. But it was doable. :D

Second, Day 3 of the 30DoHIIT. One & One. I remember that these days kicked my ass the first time around. But, I do think that this version’s selection of exercises were easier to manage. (Maybe in a future go-around - I’ll revisit the old version of the program!)

I did count my reps for the whole sequence, too:

High Knees - 141

Butt Kicks - 128

Side Leg Raises - 58 (Alternated each rep)

Chest Expansions - 58

Jumping Jacks - 64 (Fun stuff, but kinda glad that this was the last “hard“ exercise of the workout.) :,D

Raised Arm Circles - 115 (Switched direction every 20 reps)

Alt Arm / Leg Raises - 40 (Alternated each rep)

Raised Leg Swings - 98 (Switched at 30″)

Knee-In Extensions - 42 (Switched at 30″; made awkward by constant tilting of line of sight between floor and desk to see the timer)

Third, Day 3 of the PGC. 50″ un/clenching fists. Managed to outpace the .gif again - but I did have to slow down near the end. May have to moderate things sooner than later. :P

(After some time, made some notes for my dental appointment tomorrow. I also worked on more art while using the Pomodoro technique.)

Last, Day 3 of the G2B. I managed to get to bed a bit before 1AM - so I’m holding the yellow zone. Barely scraping the ideal of around midnight. But, I have to allow some grace.

-

Oct. 22

I woke up after 9AM. Kind of annoyed about the alarm not going off. Not sure if I forgot to set it or just didn’t hear it, but thankfully my ride calling us got me up.

Went to the facility, but all I really did was participate in Seeking Safety Group and talking with the facilitator about various things (which was enjoyable). Good thing I didn’t completely lose track of time and was able to pull away on time to get picked up for my dental appointment.

Despite being a ball of nerves - the diagnostic appt went well enough. I'm going to try & see if getting a fitted night-guard may help. But I may have to consider getting orthodontics, down the road. Aesthetically, I don't mind having crooked teeth. I guess there may be functional reasons to do it.

I mean... I do bite my right cheek on accident more often than the other. And it may better distribute bite force on my teeth, in general (not just for the sensitive one). I guess I'm warming up to that idea more than ever. Only concern is if it's deemed a cosmetic procedure.

But, I think this was a good first impression with this clinic. They seemed very nice and communicative. So that was another point in the good for this experience. I’m doing something about this. That matters.

Got home (the transporter guy was fun to talk to, today), did some of the usual - but I did bake some pizza and exercised (even though I was already kind of exhausted at that point).

First, today’s DD. 30 reverse crunches with EC. Probably among my favorite crunch variations. Happy that despite a heavy meal, this wasn't a problem.

Second, Day 4 of the 30DoHIIT. Basic Burpees, done at Level 3. I noticed some concerning, but painless instability in left knee and ankle throughout the latter half. That did get pretty winding, regardless! (Like the elbow plank day, I think this was a bit tougher than the older version.)

Third, Day 4 of the PGC. 50″ overhead flex hold. Pretty simple and to the point.

Fourth, for supplementary cooldown, I did Iron Bar + Footwork to address the knees and ankles a bit more. I may have to run these WOs more for the next few days to see if that’ll rectify those concerns.

(After a few hours chilling with the usual activities...)

Last, Day 4 of the G2B. I went to bed in the green zone, tonight. (Estimated clock out time being before 1AM.)

-

Oct. 23

I woke up a bit after 10AM, today.

Spent a few hours on the usual before exercising, today.

First, today’s DD. 10 shrimp squats without EC. I felt I could only get 3/4s the way down to the floor, with chair support. It's super intense in the knees and I kind of didn't want to accidentally ram them into the ground on descent or be unable to get up. :P

Second, Day 5 of the 30DoHIIT. Active Plank, done at Level 3. Despite the lower set ranges - I think the fact it was all elbow plank variations might’ve made this harder than the older version of things, certainly more anaerobic (and wearing long sleeves were very necessary). I really felt my abs during the body saws, not breaking the plank until the side bridges (which was kinda odd to structure for an uneven number of seconds and without a 7.5″ buzzer - I settled on shooting for 4/4 to maximize rep count and symmetrical loading.)

Third, Day 5 of the PGC. 1′ un/clenching fists. Just about doable. Only issue was the long sleeves trapping my fingers’ ROM a couple times, when arms were down.

Fourth, I did the same cooldown workouts as yesterday. Iron Bar burns so good. :,D

Last, Day 5 of the G2B. I got to bed a bit before 1AM - so it was marked down as yellow for me.

-

Oct. 24

I woke up a bit after 8AM, today.

Got to the facility, did some drawing, and attended both the WRAP and Grounding Group today. Felt productive and reasonably thought-provoking.

Got home, was roped into a game of rummy but I had to tap out after that one. I was just too fucking tired to keep track of stuff. I think I was polite about it, though.

Did some of the usual to recover a bit, before getting in my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 40 ninja lunges with EC. Had to shore up a bit of energy after an exhausting day, to get this done. Was pretty busy, today. :P

Second, Day 6 of the 30DoHIIT. High Knees, Level 3. I think this was possibly easier than the old version - mostly for the lower set count. Nevertheless - I really felt the fatigue after the first 2-3 sets. Probably was not that great to do, feeling like I needed a couple hours of sleep.

Third, Day 6 of the PGC. 1′ overhead flex hold. Just doable.

Last, I did the same cooldown workouts as yesterday. I think that doing these as supplements will be a good thing.

I didn’t get to bed on time due to distractions.

-

Oct. 25

I woke up around noon, today.

Did a bit of the usual + some errands (got a flu shot + shopped to prep for the predicted outage tomorrow.)

Today’s an active rest day, so I didn’t do much in terms of exercise.

First, today’s DD. 2′ sitting punches with EC. This was another personal favorite and holding that ab engagement the whole time got to be quite the willpower game! I counted 253 punches thrown in the duration, feels like a good pace. :D

(After some time with the usual, and getting dishes done...)

Last, Day 6 of the G2B. I went to bed a bit before midnight. So, I hit the yellow zone again.

-

With that, I’m going to post this now. Power may go out later today (26).

[liveyourlifemeraki-blog]

I’ll Be Home

Title: I’ll Be Home

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Santa Claus

Word Count: 2,370

Warnings: Little angsty as per usual but really this is just pure fluff

Summary: This was supposed to be the first Christmas that you and Sam spent together, but after Sam is called away on a hunt he’ll do anything to get back to you.

A/N: Welp guys, this is my first time writing Sam! Dean is honestly my comfort zone, but when I heard this song I couldn’t get Sam out of my head so I hope you all enjoy it!:) This was written for @winchester-writes SPN Christmas Song Challenge! (Yes, yes, I know it’s a little late but you can never have too much Christmas, right?;) The song I chose was Meghan Trainor’s I’ll Be Home, and the object I picked was a ribbon, Once again, I hope you all like it! As I did last time, I’ll be tagging a few writers down below the cut. Just let me know if you want me to stop tagging you, or if you want to be tagged in future fics!

“Dean better hurry up,” Sam muttered, checking his watch as he leaned against the wall of the near empty food court in the mall, his eyes glancing back up from the gleam of the metal and surveying the scene in front of him.

There were a few shoppers still mingling about, their arms laden with boxes of all shapes, sizes, and colors, their conversations bubbly and joyous, the words rising and falling in pitch with excitement. A small boy was licking a blue lollypop, the coloring getting all over his cheeks and hands and turning them blue too. There was a young mother, softly cooing at her small baby as she rocked the girl back and forth, the woman’s eyes lighting up when she saw the figure of her husband walking out of one of the many stores, his hand clasping that of another little girl who was skipping with excitement about what was in the bag that he was carrying in his other hand.

Sam’s heart gave a little lurch at the way the woman looked at her husband and he looked away before he could see them interact any more than he already had. It made the hole that was in his heart hurt a little more than it had before; the dull throbbing sharpening into a stabbing pain before it edged away into the gentle pull and push of the discomfort again.

Sam Winchester missed you. Anyone with eyes could see that.

This was supposed to have been the first Christmas that he would actually get to spend with you, the promise of being together having been spoken between the two of you months before. He had planned everything out; from the way he was going to wrap your present to how you were going to decorate the tree to what kind of cookies you were going to bake for Santa on Christmas Eve.

All of that, however, had been torn from his mind when his brother had called from five hundred miles away, the older Winchester having tackled a case that was far too big for him to do alone. So, Sam had packed up his bags, given you a kiss goodbye, and had flown to the town that he didn’t know the name of to help Dean with a monster that he couldn’t quite seem to picture the face of.

The pair had killed off the monster quickly; the team that the brothers made being one that was hard for any monster to kick its way through. But there was the aftermath to take care of. They had to make sure that there weren’t more monsters in the area. They had to make sure that everyone was safe before they could skip town.

Before Sam could come back home to you.

All of this was what was running through Sam’s mind as a man in the red suit approached him, his blue eyes twinkling with something more than just joy and the smile on his face filled with something more than just contentment.

“Mind if I stand by you?” he asked, his voice deep and kind, forcing Sam’s mind back to the present place and not at home in the living room with you.

“Not at all,” Sam replied with a kind smile, moving so that there was a little more space on the wall for this man to stand. “So…You’re Santa,” he couldn't help but laugh quietly, looking back over at the fur trimmed suit and hat that belonged to the classic Claus himself.

“That I am,” the man chuckled along, his white beard obscuring some of his face. “And you’re a man who’s missing someone very much.”

Sam stopped laughing at this remark, confusion clouding his eyes as he started at this man in front of him, tilting his head slightly. “How did you-”

“When you get old like me you learn a few things about love and longing,” Santa replied and Sam realized what he had seen in this man’s eyes besides joy. It was wisdom.

“Who’s the girl?” Santa asked him, a kind smile on his face as he leaned back against the wall, pulling a pipe somewhere from a pocket and starting to smoke it.

“I-uh-don’t think you should be-” Sam started again, quickly glancing at the sign behind the man’s head that clearly read, “No Smoking.”

“Oh, come on,” Santa laughed, taking another breath in. “All of the children that would be here to see me have long gone to bed. Besides, what are they going to do? Fire me?” At this Santa laughed, his belly shaking exactly like Sam had imagined it to in the old story books. “I work one day a year, and that day is over. There’s nothing they can do. Now come on,” he pressed, leaning closer to Sam as if the pair were sharing a secret. “Who’s the girl?”

“(Y/N),” he found himself saying before he could even register the fact that your name had slipped past his lips. “And she’s…amazing,” he finally finished breathlessly, not even sure how to describe you himself. You were so beautiful; but not only that, you were funny. You were funny and kind and sweet and you could always make Sam feel better and you just felt like home.

“She sounds amazing,” Santa said, and Sam felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he realized he had said all of that out loud. “What are you doing around here for? Go home. Go back to her.”

“I can’t. I-”

“Go home,” Santa said again, the same kind smile on his face as it always was. “Here,” he added, rummaging around in his pockets, pulling out a small white box with a scarlet ribbon tied around it. “Give this to her when you see her,” he said, placing the box in Sam’s hand.

“I-” Sam started to say, but was cut off when he heard Dean call his name. He turned around and glanced at his brother, but when he turned back the old man in the red suit was gone; even the smoke that had been floating in the air had disappeared along with him.

“Who were you talking to, Sammy?” Dean asked, his hands in his pockets as he walked up to his brother, looking around at the empty food court.

“Uh…No one,” Sam mumbled to himself, looking down at the box with the scarlet ribbon and slipping it into his pocket. “What took you so long, man?” he asked, turning back to Dean.

Dean just smirked and held out a piece of paper, his eyes shining in the light.

“What’s that?” Sam asked him, glancing from the paper to his brother, his brows drawn down in confusion.

“Just take it,” Dean replied, shoving the paper into Sam’s hands.

Sam started at Dean a moment longer before flipping the paper over, the stark black lettering informing him that he was supposed to be boarding a flight back home within the hour. “What-”

“Merry Christmas, Sammy,” Dean said, a genuine smile gracing his features. “I can wrap up here no problem. Go home. Get back to her.”

Sam had just stayed frozen for a moment before embracing his brother, a whispered, “Merry Christmas,” slipping through his lips before he dashed out of the mall and hailed a taxi, his leg bouncing up and down and willing the driver to go faster than he was.

Pulling up to the airport, he dashed inside, seeming to fly past the people in thick winter coats and tall, sturdy boots.

"Flight twenty-two," he said breathlessly when he got to the boarding location, slapping his ticket down on the desk.

The woman that was working there looked down at Sam's ticket and then back up to him, her eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry, sir; but there's a snowstorm that's coming in. There's really bad wind outside and the pilot isn't sure he can fly in this weather. Your flight may be delayed a while."

"What?" Sam asked, shaking his head as he frantically looked to the window, the crystallized flakes falling down faster than they had been beforehand. "No, no. You don't understand," Sam said, turning back toward the woman. "I need to get home. I need to get on this flight."

"We're doing the best we can, sir," the woman said, her shoulders slumping slightly at the tone of Sam's voice. "I'm sorry, but we want to keep you safe."

Sam stopped momentarily, looking at the defeat in this woman's eyes. She had probably been yelled at a minimum of a dozen times because of this flight, people being so caught up in their own frustrations and plans that they didn't even notice they were lashing out on her. So, making a conscious effort not to be one of those jerks, Sam swallowed thickly and gave her a small smile. "It's okay," he said, trying to make her feel better. "Thank you for everything you're doing."

Those few simple words seemed to make her day, her eyes lighting up and the smile on her face becoming so much more genuine than it had been before. "Merry Christmas," she called as Sam walked over to sit on one of the hard plastic chairs and wait for news about his flight.

"Merry Christmas," he responded, sitting down and pulling out the little white box, running his fingers over the edges. Maybe he'd finally figure out what was in there by the time he got back to you.

A total of about four hours later, Sam was boarding a flight back home and with another hour added on top of that he was soon in a taxi, your address flying off of his lips. Once again it seemed like the taxi driver couldn't go fast enough; Sam having to literally bite his tongue in an effort to keep him from telling the nice man to speed.

Once he got to your house he shoved a wad of rolled up dollar bills into the man's hand, telling him to keep the change as he bolted from the car. Running up the steps he pounded on your door, his breath puffing out in little white clouds in front of him. The seconds seemed like ages as he waited for you to appear at the door and when you finally did, your hair tousled and your eyes sleepy, Sam swept you off of your feet, holding you tighter than he ever had before.

"Sam!" you exclaimed, all sleepiness gone as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your feet a solid foot above the snowy ground as he spun you around, making you laugh out of joy. "What are you doing back?!"

"Santa and Dean and-" Sam couldn't even finish his sentences, deciding instead to just put you on the ground and lean down, planting a kiss on your lips, his cheeks rosy from the cold and joy and excitement all at once.

"I promised I'd be home, didn't I?" he asked, looking down at you after you two had broken apart, your grin never seeming to leave your face for a second. "I have so many weird stories to tell you about Santa Claus and Dean but I just really missed you," he finished, wrapping you up in a hug on your front porch, the snowflakes falling gently around both of you.

"I missed you so much more," you responded, the stories he had to tell you the last things on your mind, your arms wrapping around him equally as tightly. He smelled like he always did, and he was warm and comfortable and you finally felt like it was Christmas with him here.

"I got you something," he whispered in your ear, giving you a small kiss as he pulled away, keeping one of his hands intertwined with yours. Pulling out the box that had been on his person since earlier that evening, he handed it to you, your eyes full of wonder as you took it.

"What's this?" you asked as you looked at the little white package that was now sitting in your hand, the edges of the scarlet ribbon seeming to sparkle just as much as the snow did with the starlight being cast on it.

"A present," Sam responded playfully, giving your hand a small squeeze. "Open it."

The second you took your other hand out of Sam's you missed his warmth, but your fingers carefully undid the ribbon, thinking it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Without a word, Sam took it from you and stepped behind you, tying it in your hair. As you lifted the lid to the box any words that you had been thinking before died in your throat, for what was before you was more beautiful than anything you had seen.

It was a silver necklace; the tiny links intertwined perfectly together as the chain wound down to the small snowflake pendant that hung at the bottom. The snowflake had six points on it, the entire charm being made up of pure, white diamonds.

"Sam," you said, your voice breathless as you started in awe at the piece of jewelry. "This must have cost a fortune. How did you-"

"I got it for free," he told you honestly, taking it out of the box and unclasping it, putting it gently around your neck and fastening it in the back; turning you around and surveying the way it fell below your collarbone. "The perfect gift for the perfect girl; wrapped with all of the love and care in the world," he said with a twinkle in his eyes and a small smile on his face. He was definitely going to be writing a thank you letter to Santa later, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy the moment with you.

"Merry Christmas, (Y/N)," he said, his smile only growing as he clasped both of your hands in his, the joy on his face incomparable to anything you had seen before. Stepping forward, he let out a content breath and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. Sam Winchester was finally home for Christmas; because anywhere you were? That was home to him.

Tagging: @gnarlytricksbro @waywardlullabies @ellen-reincarnated1967 @percywinchester27 @impalaimagining @jpadjackles @impalapossible @writingbeautifulmen @emmysthougts @deathtonormalcy56 @kasimagine